


Tears and Raindrops

by Calysta18



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mpreg, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-10
Updated: 2008-06-03
Packaged: 2018-09-03 08:38:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 34,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8705332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calysta18/pseuds/Calysta18
Summary: Sam makes a mistake that could tear him and Dean apart forever





	1. The Coming Storm

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** I was challenged to write this story by 4everDreaming. I hope I do the story justice.
> 
> In this AU world it is possible for men to have babies too.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

**Sam**

  
Sam stared down at the white stick in his hand. He squeezed his eyes shut, counted to ten in his head and then opened his eyes one at a time and forced himself to look down again. The cross taunted him mocking him with its pinkness. Sam could feel his tears threatening and they blurred his vision but not the damning result. He was pregnant. "Shit," Sam breathed flinging the stick that represented his guilt and shame across the bathroom. It hit the opposite wall and Sam watched distractedly as it fell to the tiled floor with a small cracking sound. It gave him a small moment of satisfaction.

Sam leant forward his head in his hands. He silently cursed himself over and over as he visualised the sound of his whole world crashing down noisily around him. The imagined noise was deafening and Sam put his hands over his ears to block out the sound from his head. Sam drew in a deep breath which turned into a choking sob as he dropped one hand rubbing it across his belly as if he was trying to feel the small life growing within him. He was pregnant. He should be happy but Sam Winchester hated himself. 

Sam dragged himself to his feet and slowly moved into the bedroom. He stood by the window, just out of sight, staring down at the love of his life busily working in their garden. Dean. 

Dean who was his whole life. Dean whose love screamed at him in everything he did from giving up hunting completely to gutting and decorating the whole of their house to cooking him his favourite meal. Dean who had thrown himself wholeheartedly into making the small rundown house a home for them both. Dean who didn't really believe that anyone could ever love him. Dean who had a big heart giving his love unconditionally asking for nothing in return. Dean who deserved so much more than betrayal. Sam leaned his head up against the wall and let the tears fall unchecked down his face. 

He had been so stupid. Furious at Dean for inexplicably going on a hunt with Bobby, Sam had fallen into bed with a colleague from another department at the University where he worked as a lecturer in English Literature. Handsome, conceited and full of himself Grady Mallory had been flirting with him making his intentions obvious for weeks. Sam had felt mildly flattered but had rebuffed all of Grady's proposals. He was deeply in love with Dean and had told Grady he wasn't interested. It hadn't stopped the other man and instead of backing off he had stepped up his campaign. Grady Mallory was the kind of man who always got what he wanted. 

Hurting and angry Sam hadn't been able to see or think straight and his usual level-headedness and common sense went out of the window. He had wanted to hurt Dean for what he saw as his brother's betrayal for going hunting when they promised each other they would never hunt again. Ignoring the consequences and his own selfishness, Sam had found himself responding to Grady's flirting. He had flirted back and things had gotten out of hand quickly and Sam had found himself at Grady's apartment in Grady's bed. The sex was angry and aggressive and hadn't got anything to do with love - it was just sex, a primeval urge to satisfy themselves for completely differing reasons. Grady because he wanted Sam and he always got what he wanted. And Sam because he wanted to hurt Dean. They had rolled around Grady's large bed clawing and swiping at one another each trying to possess the other, their sweat sheened bodies rubbing against one another. They had been well matched in height and weight but Grady had finally won their sexual battle flipping Sam over onto his back and claiming him. Sam hadn't even remembered spreading his legs too lost in his feelings of lust and blind fury at Dean. It was all a blur but Sam did remember Grady thrusting in and out of him before finally exploding with a loud scream of his name. Grady coming inside him had brought him to his senses and Sam hadn't come himself quickly softening as the terrible realisation at what he had done hit him. It was as though a bucket of icy water had been thrown over him cooling his ardour and bringing him back to himself. Sated Grady selfishly hadn't noticed, had pulled out and rolled off Sam immediately falling asleep. Sam had stared up at the ornate ceiling as the guilt began to rise up threatening to choke him as Grant snored at his side. 

He had lurched out of bed and thrown up in the en suite bathroom as the realisation hit him hard again bombarding his mind and soul with shame. Still naked he had slumped on the cold tiles for over half an hour as his mind played the whole scene over and over as he shivered in the corner of the bathroom. Finally forcing himself to his feet Sam had quickly dressed and sneaked out of the apartment. He had then driven home in a daze not really concentrating on the road as the guilt inside began to eat at his every fibre. Once home he had thrown up again before standing under nearly scalding hot water in the shower trying to rid himself of his guilt and the smell of sex. Sam had scrubbed at his skin until it was a pinkish red colour and tingled with his frenzied efforts to wipe away the memory of Grady Mallory's touch on his body. 

Grady hadn't been offended at all by his leaving and had even suggested continuing with an affair. The memory of the lust and hunger glinting in Grady's eyes tormented Sam making him feel dirty and cheap. He had been avoiding the man ever since and had heard on the University grapevine that Grady had moved onto his next conquest. Sam had felt a sense of relief. But the shame and guilt at what he had done remained a part of him, gnawing at him every minute and every hour of every day. His mind insisted on playing the whole night over and over in his head in brilliant technicolour. Sam shuddered at the memories spinning round and round in his head haunting him and his disgust for himself climbed up another notch. Guilt bubbled just under the surface threatening to choke him at every moment. Sam couldn't shake the feelings and deep within himself he had convinced himself that he deserved every ounce of pain and misery for his betrayal. 

For some reason he would never be able to explain Sam had decided not to tell Dean. He convinced himself that he was protecting his brother from hurt but he knew it was just selfishness on his part. Sam couldn't face the prospect of losing Dean over one night of stupid passion and angry sex. It also gave him another reason to hate himself. He felt numb and Sam despised himself a little bit more each day. Sam had trouble sleeping, didn't feel like eating and he snapped at Dean all the time for no reason. For the last three months their relationship had been difficult and tense and it was all his fault. The secret had been weighing him down and was slowly tearing them apart leaving only a black cloak of silence between them again enveloping and surrounding their life in its darkness. Sam was miserable and he felt like a cheap whore. 

Sam scrubbed his hand across his face feeling years older than his twenty-four years. He couldn't get away from the fact that he was pregnant. It wouldn't go away and he couldn't ignore it. He knew, deep down, that it was time to confess everything to Dean and hope that his brother loved him enough to forgive him. The small voice in his head kept taunting him and telling him that he would break his brother's heart. The voice was right and Sam tried to ignore the words as they echoed in his mind making his head pound with pain. Sam shivered suddenly feeling very cold and very alone. 

Sam turned away from the window and headed towards the door. It was now or never. His heart pounded in his chest and his mouth felt dry. Sam grabbed for the stair banister feeling slightly dizzy as he made his way slowly down the stairs. At the bottom of the stairs Sam squinted just about able to see Dean through the living room french windows. His stomach clenched and Sam felt like he was about to throw up. He took several deep breaths to calm himself and steeled his heart against the pain he would cause Dean and the pain he would feel at hurting the one person in the world he really loved with all his heart. Sam moved into the living room and stepped outside into the watery spring sunshine. "Hey Dean," Sam called managing to keep the waver out of his tone. 

  
  
  
**Dean**

  

Dean leaned on his shovel for a moment huffing with the effort of trying to break through the solid ground. He was used to shovelling after years of digging up grave sites for routine salt and burns but due to the harsher than normal winter the ground was harder than he was used to.

Dean flexed his shoulders as he looked around the small untidy garden. The previous owners had been an old couple and they hadn't been able to look after the garden properly in their later years. It showed and even in the spring sunlight the garden looked like a disaster area. Trees, bushes and shrubs were wildly overgrown in desperate need of pruning and cutting back. Tangled and gnarled roots from the shrubs poked through what had once been a pristine lawn. Some of the trees were slowly dying and a few of the shrubs were shrivelled, brown and probably long past saving. The paved decking area that had been built just outside the living room's french windows was green with moss and long straggly weeds. The flower beds were littered with dead and dying plants, even the usually hardy rose bushes were in need in desperate attention and salvation.

To most people the sight would have been depressing, a lost cause, but all Dean could see was a challenge to make it beautiful again. Somewhere that he and Sam could escape to in the summer months. Dean wasn't a gardener, had never had a real interest and didn't know one plant from the other once mistaking spring bulbs for onions. But Dean was determined to make it into a garden that his mother would have been proud of. He still had vague childhood memories of bursts of colour and helping his mother with weeding in the garden in Lawrence. The garden was Dean's link to his mother but it was also part of the "normal" that Sam desperately craved. And that was enough for Dean. He loved Sam and was determined that his brother was having every bit of the normal he wanted although he had already decided they weren't getting a white picket fence - Dean had to draw the line somewhere. He grinned to himself as he looked down at the ground he had already cleared of dead or dying plants. It was hard work but Dean didn't care. This was for Sam. 

And the hard work had an added benefit - it took his mind of his relationship with Sam. Dean frowned as he stared into the distance. As always when he let his mind drift his thoughts turned to Sam and their life together and a small smile graced his lips breaking through the frown. 

A year ago, they had been wandering aimlessly through the mid-west going nowhere. The yellow-eyed demon was dead. Their father and most of their friends were dead. They were alone travelling a lonely road drifting from town to town, their lives seemingly having no purpose any more. An eerie silence had descended over them deafening them with its stillness and quiet. They were both restless and searching. Searching for an elusive something they just didn't seem able to put a finger on. There was an electric tension in the air, one they couldn't explain but it was slowly pushing them further and further apart. When they looked at each other it was as though they were trying to convey something neither of them could articulate or understand properly. They always looked away from one another trying to ignore what they saw in the other's eyes. The silence between them grew as their conversation died unspoken words dissolving on their lips. The hole they had somehow constructed in their relationship was like a gaping chasm stretching out between them. It was obvious that they both desperately wanted to leap across but filled with their own private fears neither of them had the courage. 

For days the silence had been driving Dean gradually nuts and he was terrified that Sam would leave again but he didn't know what to do. They had stopped at a motel in the middle of nowhere and while he was in the shower standing under lukewarm water Dean had given himself a good talking to and had decided that they needed to talk. He needed to talk to Sam. Needed to tell Sam his deeply hidden secret and hope that his brother would understand and not freak out at his admission. Gathering up all his courage Dean had been about to embark on a hated chick flick moment when Sam shocked him by taking control of the situation. His usually calm and sensible little brother had slammed him up against the motel room wall, shoved a long leg between his thighs and thoroughly kissed him until neither of them could breathe or speak. Sam had then shoved him to the floor stripping them both naked in fast efficient movements. Dean hadn't resisted and had clung onto Sam as his brother licked and sucked at his skin. The silence and tension between them disappeared as they made loud and noisy love on the motel floor bringing each other to the heights of ecstasy over and over again. Their search for the elusive something ended as they took a leap of faith towards each other and a life together. They had shared a bed and a life ever since. 

A month later in an unspoken agreement they had turned their back on the hunt and settled down in a small town twenty miles from where Bobby Singer lived. They both had jobs they loved and a small house that they were gradually making a home. Their life was so much better. They were together. They loved each other and had created a world where only they existed, a world where they shut out the people who would judge and be disgusted by their relationship. Dean frowned again. 

Dean loved Sam with all his heart but at the moment he was confused and hurt and spent hours alone trying to work out what he had done wrong. Dean knew it was his fault. He had never been any good at relationships. His father had turned him into a soldier and Dean just didn't know how let go and embrace his feelings. He'd never really learned and his father never really encouraged him wanting him to concentrate solely on the hunt for the demon that had killed his mother. But there were other obstacles standing in Dean's way - Dean himself and his innate insecurities, his fear of rejection and the thought that he wasn't good enough for anybody to love. Being in love had always been a mystery to Dean and he had mostly avoided it over the years preferring one night stands. But Dean sensed that deep inside hidden behind his well defended shields he had a huge capacity to love the right person. Sam. 

Dean had fought the feelings at first, wanting to keep them hidden and protected deep within him but Sam had been his usual stubborn and determined self. And gradually over the last few months with the help of his brother's constant and gentle love Dean had slowly begun to relax and let down his defences laying his heart out for Sam to possess. Sam owned his heart. It was a good feeling, an alien feeling for Dean but one that filled him with such happiness and an inner peace, both of which he had never really experienced in his life. 

Dean was so confused - Sam's recent behaviour towards him made Dean ache with loneliness and hurt. He knew Sam had been angry with him for going on a hunt with Bobby. Sam hadn't even let him explain the reasons, just yelled loudly for over ten minutes before storming out of the house and driving off in his battered pick up truck. Dean had desperately wanted to follow but had reluctantly decided to let Sam cool off knowing that he would back by morning as the hunt with Bobby was a tricky but a simple one that needed a two man approach. When Dean had returned from the hunt he had expected an argument but instead Sam had been loving and attentive and he was stupidly afraid to ask what was going on, terrified of the answer. Since then things between them had been wrong but Dean just didn't know how to put it right. Sam had become distant and every time Dean tried to reach out to his brother Sam pushed him away or snapped angrily at him. Dean had never felt so lost and alone. 

Dean had been full of doubts about embarking on a relationship that was so wrong in every culture but Sam had been confident and self-assured telling Dean that he wanted and loved him convincing Dean that they belonged together for all times, that they had always belonged together. And Dean believed and trusted Sam - and if he was honest it was what he wanted too and had wanted and dreamed about for a long time. They were soul mates flip sides of a coin and hopelessly lost without the other. 

Dean's mind tortured him with thoughts of Sam leaving having changed his mind about their relationship. Changed his mind about Dean and he couldn't bear the thought that Sam didn't love him any more. The thoughts swirled around his brain confusing and terrifying him with their persistence. Dean tried to push them away deep inside as he had done all his life but with Sam behaving strangely they remained in the forefront of his mind tormenting him every waking hour. Dean shivered and not from the cold spring air. He stared into the distance again. He could almost smell the threatening rain. The clouds on the distant horizon were angry looking, grey and black and he could hear the rumble of thunder in the distance - a storm was coming, heading their way. Dean sighed at the inevitability. 

"Get a grip Winchester," Dean chastised himself as he shook himself out of his morose thoughts. He looked down at his shovel deciding to work out his frustration and confusion on the ground before the threatened rain storm arrived. He started to prod at the ground huffing at the effort. Dean was startled out of his digging by Sam's voice. 

"Hey Dean," Sam called from behind him. 

Dean turned grinning at Sam. "Hey Sammy," he moved forwards. His grin immediately turned to a troubled frown as he noticed the look on his brother's face and his red swollen eyes. Dean's heart thudded in his chest and his mouth suddenly went dry. 

  
**To be continued............**


	2. The Coming Storm

  
Author's notes: I hope that this chapter doesn't disappoint. Enjoy. Calysta  


* * *

  
Throwing his shovel to one side and ignoring the growing fear within him Dean immediately hurried to Sam's side. "Sammy," he whispered enfolding his brother in his arms. "What's wrong?"

Sam struggled in the embrace. He didn't deserve to be held, touched or comforted by Dean. He pushed gently at Dean's chest pulling out of the warm arms that were always there to comfort and soothe him. Sam shivered slightly and hugged his arms around his own body as he stepped away from Dean. The slight swell of his belly reminded him what he had to do. Sam couldn't help noticing the flicker of hurt that crossed his brother's face and the hate he felt for himself deepened. "Let's go inside," he muttered glancing up at the grey sky. "It's gonna rain." Sam turned away from Dean stepping back into the living room. 

Dean couldn't help feeling a stab of hurt as Sam pulled out of his embrace. It hurt deep down inside him. He drew in a long shaky breath. It was official Sam hated him. Dean's hands were shaking and he shoved them into his jacket pockets as he looked up to the sky distractedly. The sun had disappeared behind murky grey coloured clouds and it had suddenly started to rain. It was as though the weather sensed his mood. Dean ducked his head down but couldn't help absently counting in his head as the storm raced their way. The storm was close and he sighed following his brother into their home closing the french windows behind him. 

The storm quickly closed in surrounding them with dark skies and black rain heavy clouds. Sam paced the now rapidly darkening room restlessly ignoring the gloom and choosing not to turn on the light. He felt sick but knew he had to tell Dean the truth, the whole truth and face the consequences. Sam slumped down onto the couch. He ran his hand nervously through his hair before finally looking up at Dean who was standing unusually quiet just inside the door. A quiet Dean unnerved him slightly and Sam ran his hands through his hair again gazing absently at the rain that was now hammering against the doors mesmerised for a moment as he watched the rain drops slide down the glass. The wind rattled at the window and door frames making Sam shiver. The thunder rumbled overhead and a flash of lightning illuminated their living room snapping him out of his trance. He knew he couldn't put off the inevitable any longer and Sam glanced up at his brother. "I'm sorry Dean," he finally forced out. The words sounded stupid to his ears and he bit at the inside of his mouth trying to decide how to proceed but the words died on his lips as he took in the defeated look in his brother's eyes. Sam could feel the threatening tears and wiped a hand across his face. 

"What for?" Dean frowned confused even though he had half expected an apology from his brother before he left. But there was something weird about Sam's whole demeanour, something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Dean frowned again. "Sammy? What the hell is going on?" he finally snapped frustrated. He didn't want to know but at the same time he did. Dean hated feeling so confused and lost. 

"Oh Dean," Sam sighed. "I didn't .... didn't mean to... it just...," he gave a small shrug. "Just kinda ... I was so angry.... at .... at .....and it just .... kinda happened. Dean. Please," he struggled with the words. "I'm sorry," he said defeated putting his head in his hands. This was harder than he had ever imagined and he stared down at the floor distractedly trying to compose himself, trying to drag the right words from deep within himself, words that Sam knew would likely hurt Dean and change their relationship forever. The hate he felt for himself stabbed at his soul twisting and deepening even more. 

Dean felt sick and he could feel himself trembling afraid that Sam was still about to tell him that he was leaving, that he didn't love him anymore. He balled his hands into fists in an attempt to stop the shaking. His emotions were in turmoil, his insecurities about their relationship spun around his head making him feel dizzy and for some reason he could feel his temper rising. Dean took a deep breath in an effort to calm himself as he took a tentative step forwards. "Are you leaving?" he forced himself to ask. He held his breath waiting for the answer. 

Sam snapped his head up staring at his brother. He could see the doubt and fear in Dean's expressive eyes and it made him feel ten times worse. "No," he answered simply. "I'm not leaving."

Three months of confusion and turmoil finally got the better of Dean. His frustration and fear gave way to his temper as it boiled over. "Then what the hell is going on?" he snapped angrily glaring at Sam.

Sam stared at Dean for a moment before taking a deep calming breath. "I'm pregnant," he said so softly that he could hardly hear the words himself. In a moment of madness Sam held onto a vain hope that the thunder and lightning storm flashing and crashing around them would drown out his words, would even drown out his guilt and shame. 

Dean cocked his head to one side. "Come again?" he frowned confused not sure he had heard right because of the noisy storm overhead. They had been taking precautions because Sam had wanted to wait before starting a family convincing him that they should get used to being together as a couple first. Dean had desperately wanted children but he loved Sam so much that in the end he had agreed and if he was really honest with himself they weren't really ready for a family of their own. 

Sam took another breath and looking Dean directly in the eye. "I'm pregnant," he repeated slightly louder. 

"I... I don't.... don't understand. We're...we're... waiting," Dean stuttered returning Sam's stare. Something was wrong. He had sensed it before and now he sensed again. Dean frowned again as he studied the face he knew so well and loved so much. He watched as a hundred different emotions flitted across Sam's face. Fear. Love. Desperation. And finally something Dean hadn't expected in a million years. Guilt and shame. Dean suddenly saw the truth reflected in Sam's eyes. Sam didn't need to say anything. The unspoken words bounced off the walls filling the air with the horrifying truth. Dean took an unsteady step backwards dread filling his soul. He felt dizzy and his vision blurred for a moment as he stared at Sam open mouthed. "It's not.... not ... mine?" he forced out the question his mouth suddenly dry as the realisation hit washing over him taking his breath away. Hurt and pain lanced through his body in equal measures at the thought of Sam with someone else and he wrapped his arms around his stomach huffing slightly with the effort to catch his breath. He had so many questions he needed answers to spinning around his head and he swayed slightly. Dean wanted to ask who and how and when but if he was honest with himself he really didn't want to know. Instead Dean gritted his teeth in an effort to steady himself and stared at Sam as a numbness began to settle within him. 

Sam remained silent, not replying, as he turned his eyes away from Dean not able to look his brother in the eye. After a moment of trying to compose himself Sam forced himself to look at Dean. His brother hadn't moved, was still staring at him shock evident in his expression. They stared at each other in silence not needing words. They had never really needed words to communicate with one another. Words were irrelevant. Sam didn't need to say anything else. Dean knew the truth. 

The loud thunder salvos and flashes of lightning didn't even jolt them out of their respective stupor. Time seemed to stand still as Sam and Dean stared at each other. The storm raged outside moving directly overhead but they remained oblivious to it. The wind whipped at their untidy garden bending trees and shrubs over ruthlessly snapping the branches of the dying plants. The rain continued to lash against the windows as Sam and Dean stared at one another lost in their own torment, lost in their own private storm. The storm outside roared across the sky but all they heard was a deathly silence. It surrounded them bouncing off the walls deafening them both with its intensity and the unspoken confession. A blinding blue and yellow flash of lightning forked across the darkened sky startling Dean breaking through the numbness he felt and cutting through the oppressive silence. He stumbled backwards away from Sam. 

His brother's sudden movement jerked Sam back to himself. "Dean," he leapt to his feet moving quickly towards Dean. Then he saw it. Sam saw the moment his brother shut down his emotions pushing them down deep. He saw his brother locking him out, all his hard work over the last few months at getting Dean to open up, to trust, to show his feelings destroyed in a matter of seconds. Dean was protecting himself from hurt and pain. "Please," he murmured although Sam knew that his pleading would fall on deaf ears. The person staring at him, eyes full of anguish and confusion, was someone he didn't recognise, someone he hadn't seen for over a year. "Dean," he begged. 

Dean put his hands up stopping Sam mid-stride. "Don't," he snarled as he side-stepped Sam and took the stairs two at a time. Sam was frozen to the spot. His feet wouldn't move and he couldn't force out any words. Frozen to the spot he just listened. He heard Dean thumping up the stairs and along the hallway. Sam started recognising the sound of their bedroom door slamming loudly. The thunderstorm overhead persisted rumbling in anger as the lightning continued to flash illuminating the room with an eerie yellow light. Not moving Sam cocked his head to one side listening trying to separate out the sounds of Dean moving above him from the sounds of the storm. He could definitely hear the closet door banging and the sound of drawers being roughly pulled out. It was obvious that Dean was packing. "Dean," he whispered to himself as he finally forced his feet to move. He took to the stairs and ran along the hallway to their bedroom. 

Sam paused at the door hesitating his hand wavering above the door handle almost afraid to enter. He took a deep breath before pushing the door open. His eyes took in the scene as Sam scanned the room. Dean's familiar bag lay open on their bed, one he hadn't seen since they had been on the road together. The closet door was open and the drawers of their shared dresser were hanging open. Sam noticed that some of his t-shirts were heaped on the floor as well as a couple of pairs of his jeans obviously dropped in Dean's haste to grab his own clothes. Their bathroom door was open and Sam noticed that Dean's wash kit, toothbrush and various other items were scattered on the bed waiting to be packed. Sam turned his attention to his brother and watched as Dean grabbed clothes out of the closet and drawers stuffing them into the bag without folding or rolling them. All his life Sam had watched Dean pack his bag, as a child and as an adult, but this packing was different. This packing was desperate and haphazard borne out of need to get away from him. Sam stifled a threatened sob and moved towards their bed.

Dean looked up as the door opened. He gave Sam a hard look before returning to his packing. Dean didn't really know what he was doing, didn't even know if he was packing his own clothes. Everything was a blur and he was acting on pure instinct just knowing that he had to get away, away from Sam and away from their life. Away from the life he had thought they both loved and wanted. Strangely Dean felt no pain or hurt. Just a weird kind of calm and numbness that was slowly spreading within him masking and pushing the pain down deep inside him as he unconsciously built up his defensive walls brick by brick again, the same walls that Sam had patiently and carefully broken down with his love. It was something he had always done, it felt familiar, it felt safe. Dean knew he would be safe behind his defences deciding that it was better than the alternative of surrendering to the ache in his heart and soul. He doggedly ignored the persistent ache choking back a sob determined not to show any emotion whatsoever.

"Go away," Dean snapped as he sensed Sam moving closer. He shoved a shirt into the bag and turned snatching up a sweater. The numbness gave way to an intense ache as he realised it was the sweater that Sam had bought him for his birthday. Dean ran his hands through the softness as memories of his birthday assaulted his mind tormenting him with Sam's gentleness and affection as they spent the afternoon making love to each other. Dean snapped himself out of his memories cursing himself for his weakness and flinging the sweater to one side in temper. He fiddled in the drawer intent on not looking at his brother. The noisy storm had moved away leaving only rain pounding at the windows, breaking into the oppressive silence between them. The atmosphere was heavy with unspoken words and confessions and Dean wanted to scream out loud. "Go away," he repeated instead putting as much coldness into his tone as he could muster. 

Sam flinched slightly at Dean's tone, the usual warmth he was so used to was missing. "No," he said stubbornly sitting down on the bed and pulling Dean's bag out of his brother's reach. For some reason he couldn't explain Sam started to unpack the bag as though removing the clothes would make Dean stay with him. 

"Fine," Dean kept his back to Sam. He pulled t-shirts out of the drawers casting Sam's to the floor and his to the top of the dresser in an untidy pile.

"Dean," Sam murmured. "Please look at me," he begged as he carefully folded Dean's t-shirts and shirts laying them on their bed. He smoothed out the top t-shirt before turning his attention to the shirts.

"I can't bear to look at you now," Dean choked out slamming one of the drawers shut. 

"Please," Sam whispered. 

"No," Dean replied absently pulling a t-shirt from the pile he had made. He couldn't help himself, the words tumbled out of his mouth. "You promised... you said... you said it was just you and me. You said it would be OK," Dean accused softly as he wrung the t-shirt in his hands. "You promised it was just you and me." 

Sam pulled himself to his feet. "It is," he said as calmly as he could manage. It was the truth and Sam prayed that Dean could hear it in his words. 

Dean whirled on Sam angrily hurling the now thoroughly screwed up t-shirt onto the bed. Sam recoiled at the expression on Dean's face. It was there for only a moment before his brother schooled his features staring at him with cold emotionless eyes. But Sam had seen it, seen the depth of Dean's pain, the pain he had caused by his selfishness and stupidity. Dean's expressive green eyes had been filled with so much hurt, pain and confusion that it almost took Sam's breath away. Undisguised misery radiated from every pore of his brother's body and Sam could almost feel his brother's anguish filling their bedroom ricocheting off the walls. And then it was gone as if Dean had turned a switch. 

Dean narrowed his eyes looking his brother up and down before focussing his attention on Sam's stomach and wondered why he hadn't noticed before. But he could see it now. Could see Sam clearly. Could see the slight swell of Sam's belly. "So this," he waved a hand at Sam's stomach. "Is just my damn imagination." 

Sam unconsciously moved a hand and arm across his stomach as if trying to hide his guilt, his shame. "No," he whispered staring down at the floor. 

Dean noticed the movement and arched an eyebrow at his brother. He narrowed his eyes at Sam again. "Then what?" he demanded as he started to pace up and down the room in an effort to control himself. 

"It was a mistake," Sam finally forced out. "A stupid.... stupid mistake. I was angry... and it just... just happened," Sam stammered. He could feel the threatened tears and wiped a hand across his face. 

"Angry? Angry?" Dean snarled as he stopped pacing. "I don't understand." 

"I was angry at you," Sam yelled even though he knew he was being unreasonable and selfish again. He had no right to be angry with Dean now or then. Sam recognised and accepted that the whole mess was his fault but he needed Dean to understand. He knew that it wouldn't change a thing, knew he didn't deserve either Dean's understanding or forgiveness but may be if he explained it would ease things between them. Deep down Sam knew that it was a vain hope but he clung to it desperately. 

Dean frowned screwing up his face in thought. It hit him suddenly and he drew in a sharp breath. "The hunt?" he said. It explained Sam's peculiar behaviour over the past three months. "With Bobby? Let me get this straight. You were angry with me for going on the hunt with Bobby?" 

Sam bit at his lips not really wanting to relive the night. He nodded. "Yeah. I was mad as hell at you," he admitted. "So.... so...," he couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. 

"You went and screwed someone else," Dean finished for him bitterly. Through the bitterness he could feel the hurt bubbling under the surface fuelling the anger he felt deep within in him. Dean clenched and unclenched his fists as he pushed the feelings down deep inside encouraging the numbness back with all his strength. Not feeling was good. Dean Winchester was good at not feeling, had always been good at not feeling or showing his feelings. Nobody could hurt him when he didn't feel. Sam couldn't hurt him if he didn't feel. 

Even though it was true the words stung and Sam bit at his lips again knowing that he deserved Dean's bitterness and hate. He nodded not being able to bring himself to say the words. To admit his guilt again. His stomach clenched and the disgust he felt doubled and tripled as he watched Dean's face crumble. Watched the realisation of his betrayal sink in. 

"I did it for you... for us," Dean choked and Sam could hear the honesty in his brother's words. "I... we owed Bobby." 

Sam snorted. He couldn't help it. "For us?" he said unbelieving. "You hunted for us?" 

"Yeah," Dean said simply as he started to pace up and down again. "You remember when we first got here... you were sick and ended up in the hospital with pneumonia?" 

"Yeah," Sam nodded even though his memories were slightly blurry. He remembered feeling sick and remembered Dean's voice and touch. Remembered waking up to Dean sitting at his bedside looking pale and tired. Remembered it being four days later. 

"We.... didn't have any money. And I didn't wanna use any fake cards or whatever because we wanted to spend... spend," Dean's voice wavered slightly. He took a deep breath. "Our lives here. I didn't know what to do. You were so sick. I was going outta my mind. But then Bobby comes along and kinda sorts everything out so I can sit and hold your hand. He paid all our bills and he wouldn't let me pay him back," Dean stopped pacing and glared hard at Sam. "That's why I went hunting," Dean stabbed a finger at Sam angrily. "We owed him. I did it for us." 

Sam remembered now. Dean had tried to talk to him on that night, had tried to explain to him but he had been so furious that he had run out of the house in a temper and driven off without a backward glance. "Oh God," Sam whispered covering his mouth with his hand in horror as he dropped back down onto the bed. The small glimmer of hope that Dean would forgive him evaporated and Sam suddenly felt empty and lost. "Dean. I'm so .... so sorry," he said softly. He knew that his apologies would probably mean nothing to Dean. Their relationship lay in tatters around their feet but Sam still desperately wanted his brother to know that he was sorry, wanted Dean's forgiveness. But deep down Sam knew it was a lost cause. He had managed to lose the one person he cared for and loved more than anything in the whole world - Dean. 

Dean glared at his brother. "Well that's OK then," he snapped sarcastically. "Sammy's sorry. Life is good." It was then he noticed that Sam had obviously been unpacking his bag. He scowled as he moved back towards the bed. 

"Dean," Sam pleaded ignoring the sarcasm. "Please," he said absently fingering Dean's bag. 

"Please what?" Dean shouted as he leant forward and snatched his bag away from Sam. "Please love me?" he shoved the piled t-shirts back into the bag. "Please trust me?" the shirts were thrust into the bag next. "Please spend the rest of your life with me?" he threw his wash kit and other items on top of the clothes. "Please believe me?" he rolled up his jeans jamming them in the bag. Dean then zipped up the bag throwing it onto the floor. Dean cocked his head to one side. "God I am such a dumb asshole..... I remember now," he leant close to his brother. "Done all that. Loved you. Trusted you. Believed you. Wanted to be with you," he hissed before turning away from Sam leaning his elbows on the top of the dresser. 

Dean gripped the side of the dresser desperately fighting the pain and hurt that bubbled up inside him. Sam had betrayed him and his love and it hurt so much that he didn't think he would ever feel or love again.  Sam was pregnant with another man's child.   Dean shuddered.  He had wanted a family so badly but now all his dreams were shattered and smashed.   He loved Sam so much but now he just felt hate for the only person in the whole world he had ever loved.   He hated Sam so much for his betrayal, would never forgive him.   Dean could feel himself trembling, feel his shoulders shake but no tears came. He felt nothing but an intense pain and he fought against it with everything he had inside him. Dean willed the numbness back forcing the pain away with a grim determination. 

Sam stared at Dean's back watching as his brother's shoulders shook slightly. He made no sound but Sam could see Dean's hands gripping the sides of the dresser, could see that Dean was fighting to keep himself under control. "Dean," he whispered reaching out towards his brother. 

Dean slowly turned. He calmly walked to his bag and picked it up shrugging it onto his shoulder. He brushed past Sam not sparing him a glance. At the door Dean spun around facing Sam. He stared for a moment and Sam saw a thousand emotions flash across his brother's face. "I will never forgive you," Dean choked as he let a single tear fall unchecked down his now too pale face. The door slammed behind him. 

Sam stared at the closed door. The sound of the Impala's engine roaring to life jolted him out of his trance and he listened to the sound of tyres screeching on the road as Dean drove away from him. "Dean," he let out a sob dropping his head into his hands. 

  
**To be continued..............**


	3. Stormy Skies

  
Author's notes: Hope you enjoy. Calysta  


* * *

******Dean**

  
Dean slammed the door to the house. He leant back against the wood for a moment trying to calm his ragged breathing. Dean could feel the threatened tears and he closed his eyes willing them away. Finally with his breathing under control he pushed himself off the door and headed towards the Impala. It was still raining but Dean didn't feel the wetness soaking through his jacket to his shirt. Dean felt completely numb, as though he was disconnected from his body, and his final words to Sam echoed in his head over and over making him feel slightly dizzy.

As he reached the Impala Dean couldn't help a glance backwards, looking up at their home. The home they had made together. The home he had thought they both wanted but now he knew different. Sam wanted something else, someone else. He was pregnant with another man's baby, the child that Dean had so desperately craved for them but Sam had denied him persuading him to wait until they were settled as a couple. Dean hated Sam for that and his stomach clenched as he stifled a sob wiping angrily at his face pushing down the pain and hurt. He was not going to cry. Ever. His life with Sam was over, a closed book. Dean took a deep breath hardening his heart against any feeling. Anger, betrayal, pain and hurt were all feelings that Dean Winchester was determined not to feel and could do without. He had done it in the past and he could do it again. With the thought firmly in his mind Dean took one final look up at the house before turning his back and opening the door to the Impala. 

The door creaked as he opened it and he threw his bag onto the back seat. The sound felt familiar and safe. The shiny black car was his refuge, had always been his refuge from the outside world. Dean had always escaped to the car when he was hurting or more often than not when his Dad and Sam were fighting. He could shut them and the world out as he sat behind the wheel his fingers tapping in time to his loud music, eyes closed drowning out the sounds of their shouting and the cruel words they hurled at each other. Dean had always felt safe in the Impala with its familiar creaking sounds and leather smells. The car never disappointed or betrayed him. The last two years with Sam at his side in the Impala were memories he would treasure forever and Dean was determined not to hate the car because he had shared it with Sam for a while. 

Dean blew out a long calming breath as he turned the ignition listening to the familiar roar as the engine burst into life. He couldn't help himself. Dean took another look at their home in the mirror. His heart was telling him to go back into the house, talk to Sam and work things out. But his head was telling him to leave and never come back. Dean Winchester listened to his head, his heart was broken. He pulled out of the driveway and headed along the road away from the life they had made together. 

Dean pressed down on the accelerator not caring about the speed or where he was going. He had to leave. Leave Sam, the only person he had ever truly loved. Dean could feel the burning sting of tears in his eyes again but he was determined and grit his teeth hard making his jaw ache with the pressure. Crying was not an option. Anger and hurt washed over him nearly taking his breath away as the scenery flashed by in a green and brown blur. Dean pressed his foot down on the accelerator again desperately trying not to think about Sam and his betrayal. He tried to blank his mind and concentrate on his anger and the hurt pulsing hotly through his veins. But his mind insisted on betraying him too and his thoughts kept turning to Sam and their life together. Dean had been so happy and had thought Sam was happy too but he should have known that Dean Winchester wasn't allowed happiness, love or peace. He only deserved pain, misery and loneliness. 

Dean drove on through the rain in a haze of hurt for over half an hour. He was driving on autopilot, not seeing anything - not the rain, not the slow side to side movement of the Impala's wipers, not even the other cars on the road. Dean saw nothing. Felt nothing. Dean allowed the paralysing numbness to soak into his body shrouding himself in a dark cloak of misery. The realisation of Sam's betrayal bombarded his mind making his head spin and his stomach lurch with an ache that Dean knew would never leave him for as long as he lived. His vision blurred for a moment and his hands loosened on the steering wheel. The Impala swerved violently to the middle of the road narrowly avoiding an oncoming truck. The truck driver blared his horn angrily startling Dean out of his daze. 

He gripped the wheel and slewed the Impala to a stop at the side of the road ignoring the loud blast from the horn of the car behind. He panted, his breath sounding harsh in the confines of the car. Closing his eyes and drawing in deep calming breaths, Dean leaned forwards resting his head on the steering wheel desperately trying to get himself under control. He banged his head over and over on the warm leather of the wheel as he silently cursed his crappy life. Sitting up Dean stared distractedly at the wipers and their incessant motion across the rain splattered windscreen. It was strangely mesmerising and Dean lost himself in the soft thump thump sound of the wipers until he couldn't stand the noise any more. Dean felt suddenly claustrophobic and roughly pushed the door open dragging himself from behind the wheel out into the rain. The rain beat down on him soaking him in minutes but Dean didn't care. He leaned against the Impala surrendering to the numbness, welcoming the sensation and letting it overwhelm him. But deep inside Dean was desperately screaming but he stubbornly ignored his own cries. He wanted to cry but the tears wouldn't come. He wanted to scream but no sound would come. He wanted to feel but all he felt was a weird soothing paralysis where there was no pain or hurt or betrayal. Dean reached out within himself, savouring it and clinging onto it as if it were a lifeline shoving away any feelings of love. He had found love and it had been cruelly crushed by the only person he had ever cared about. Dean Winchester embraced the sensation of not feeling with all his strength. He turned his head upwards letting the rain wash over him, soaking him, cleansing away the hurt and pain leaving nothing in its place. Soaked to the skin and staring up at the dark storm clouds Dean Winchester allowed his love to die. 

  
**Sam**

  
Sam stared at the closed door for what seemed like an eternity, listening until he could no longer hear the sound of the Impala driving away, hearing only the rain pounding against the window and the eerie silence in their home. Sam wasn't used to their home being quiet. Sam was used to Dean filling it with his loud music as he happily decorated and renovated each of the rooms one by one. All of the rooms except one - they had both agreed not to decorate the small third bedroom. That room they had agreed would eventually be a nursery for their baby. 

Sam forced his thoughts away from babies and nurseries and back to Dean. He had known it was futile chasing after his brother. Sam had recognised the warning signs in Dean's expressive eyes knowing that his brother wouldn't listen to any of his pleas or begging. Sam had committed the ultimate sin - he had betrayed Dean's trust and love. Sam's stomach lurched at the thought and he could feel the stinging of threatened tears. He scrubbed a hand over his face as he rocked back and forth. Hugging his stomach Sam couldn't stop thinking about the child he was carrying. The child should have been Dean's and Sam let out a small strangled sob. He had robbed Dean of the chance of having a child with one night of stupidity and angry sex with a man he didn't even love, and if he really thought about didn't really like. Sam hated himself and he could feel the guilt and shame rising up within him again. He rocked backwards and forwards harder as an ache in his soul threatened to overwhelm him completely. Dean hated him. Sam had seen it in his brother's eyes, had heard it in every syllable of his final words to him. The words echoed in his head over and over tormenting him with their finality. "Oh God," Sam whispered to himself as the realisation of what he had done in a moment of anger slowly sunk in. Sam had known all along, deep inside, that he was guilty of betraying Dean's trust and love but he hadn't really let himself think about the consequences, had been desperately clinging to the hope that Dean would forgive him. Dean always forgave him. But Dean's words had crushed that hope and Sam couldn't bear the thought of not being with his brother. He knew it was selfish, sounded selfish to his own ears, but Sam desperately wanted and needed Dean in his life. 

He loved Dean so much it hurt. Sam let out another choked sob as a solitary tear ran down his face. He felt like his life was over and had never felt so lonely in his whole life. He sighed knowing that it was all his own fault. He had no-one to blame but himself. Sam wiped at his face trying to get himself under control reminding himself that he was pregnant, that he had another "somebody" to live for. It strengthened his resolve slightly and Sam dragged himself to his feet and moved over to the window. He stared out at the gloomy rain soaked sky. It matched his mood and he rubbed at his stomach absently. Sam loved Dean. Wanted and needed Dean. And was going to do everything in his power to win his brother back and earn his trust and love again. Sam knew it would be a long hard and lonely path, especially with him having another man's baby, but he was suddenly determined. His resolve made him feel slightly better and he wiped at his face again sniffing loudly. Sam Winchester wasn't going to let their love die. 

  


**Six weeks later.....**

Sam sat in his jeep staring at the gates to Bobby's Junkyard. He wasn't feeling as confident as he had been six weeks ago. He was afraid and nervous at the same time. Dean was only a few feet away from him, behind the gates, having taken refuge with their friend, and the thought made Sam feel sick with nervous anticipation. Once he had decided that he wasn't going to give up on Dean or let Dean give up on their relationship, Sam had given his brother a few days alone, ignoring the little voice in his head telling him that he was a coward, before he had tried calling knowing that Dean was with Bobby. Dean had hung up on him without saying a word.

Sam didn't know why, couldn't explain why, but Dean hanging up on him had made him angry and even more determined. He had weighed all his options over and over in his mind and come up with a loose plan. He didn't just want to just turn up and Sam admitted to himself that a small part of him desperately wanted Dean to invite him over to Bobby's home. It was cowardly but a small part of him needed Dean to still want him like he still wanted Dean. Sam had spent hours staring at the telephone willing it to ring and waiting for the call that never came. Sam figured that turning up and demanding that Dean talk to him wouldn't work. He knew his brother well enough to know that a full frontal attack would seriously backfire on him and would probably result with him on his ass. So despite his restless impatience Sam had spent the last six weeks trying to talk to Dean calling him every day, more often than not listening to Dean's voice mail or a silence at the end of the phone before the line disconnected. Not deterred Sam had then resorted to bombarding Dean's cell phone with text messages only to have them ignored, not receiving one reply. He nearly gave up but his love spurred him onwards. 

Sam couldn't believe that six weeks had passed by. Six lonely weeks without Dean in his life. Last night staring up at the ceiling Sam had decided that enough was enough. He determined that he had given Dean plenty of time alone and today he was going to talk to his brother whether he liked it or not. But now that he was here, sitting outside Bobby's yard, Sam could feel his resolve weakening and he had never felt so alone. At that moment the child within gave him a sharp kick reminding him that he wasn't alone. He was over five months pregnant, definitely showing and had tried unsuccessfully to hide his swollen stomach under an over-sized baggy sweater. He knew talking to Dean would be difficult with his swollen stomach and in hindsight wished that he had come to talk to Dean earlier, before his stomach had expanded. Sam absently rubbed a hand across his belly. "It's OK," he soothed as he pushed the door to the jeep open and got out. He couldn't put it off any longer - Sam took a deep breath, pushed one of the large gates open and made his way into the yard in search of Dean. 

Dean heard the yard gates creak open and he looked up from the mustang engine he was currently working on. He instinctively knew who he would see, had been expecting a visit. Sam. Dean wiped his oily hands down his jeans as he silently watched his brother enter the yard. Even from where he was standing Dean could see the prominent bulge of Sam's stomach under his brother's sweater, the evidence of his betrayal. Dean felt a stab of pain and hurt at the sight. Pain and hurt that he thought he had successfully pushed deep within him. Dean's mouth suddenly went dry and he could feel his heart thudding in his chest. He stepped back into the afternoon shadows hoping that Sam wouldn't see him. Dean didn't want to talk to Sam, didn't want to see Sam. 

Six weeks ago he had been aimlessly driving down the road not knowing where he was going and somehow had ended up at Bobby's Yard. His friend had taken him in asking no questions or pressing Dean to talk. He hadn't talked about Sam or their relationship, just pushed all the feelings of hurt, pain and betrayal deep down inside him where nobody, even himself, could find them. Dean had been grateful to Bobby even though he sensed he was worrying the older man. He knew he looked bad, the mirror taunted him every morning but Dean didn't feel like eating, didn't feel like talking and didn't sleep much, his slumber plagued with dreams of Sam with another man. Dean just worked on the cars, here, and at the garage he had worked at ever since he and Sam had moved into the area. Dean just existed from day to day. Inside he felt dead, numb to everything and everyone and stripped of all feeling. 

He had spent six lonely weeks avoiding his brother's calls and ignoring his text messages. It had taken every ounce of restraint he possessed not to answer the calls, reply to the text messages or drive back to Sam, take his brother in his arms and say that all was forgiven. Laying awake in the darkness at night Dean secretly admitted to himself that he wanted to forgive Sam but his terror at being hurt or betrayed again won out every time. Dean found himself hardening his heart a little bit more each day until he finally convinced himself that he felt nothing for Sam, ignoring the little voice in his head that told him he was lying to himself. 

Dean sighed knowing that it had been inevitable that his stubborn brother would eventually give up his relentless telephone campaign and search him out to talk face to face. Dean reached down and grabbed a spanner out of his tool box and leaned over the engine again waiting. Waiting for Sam. He didn't have to wait long. 

"Hey Dean," Sam appeared a few feet in front of him shifting nervously from foot to foot. 

Dean looked up but remained silent as he threw the spanner into the toolbox. The clanking sound echoed into the silence. Dean leaned up against the mustang folding his arms across his chest as he cast his eyes up and down Sam's body. Now that his brother was only a few feet away, Dean could clearly see his swollen belly even though it had looked like Sam had tried to hide it under a baggy sweater. Dean's heart was still thudding in his chest, his mouth was still dry and he could feel the sweat running down the back of his neck. He swallowed hard clenching and unclenching his fists in an effort to keep calm. "Sam," Dean finally forced out managing to keep the waver out of his voice. 

Sam bit at his lip. Now that he was here, face to face with Dean, he really didn't know what to say. The child within him gave him a series of hard kicks harshly reminding Sam why they were in this situation. The guilt and shame he felt welled up inside him again and he could feel unwanted tears pricking at his eyes. "Not now," he mumbled to himself cursing his pregnancy hormones but knew that they weren't entirely responsible for how he was feeling at the moment. Sam studied Dean for a moment as he rubbed his belly trying to soothe his child. His brother looked unhealthily skinny having, Sam guessed, dropped at least a stone in weight. His clothes hung off him loosely and his face was pale, gaunt and devoid of any emotion with dark bluish circles under his eyes. His brother's usually bright expressive green eyes were dull and lifeless. It saddened Sam - Dean's eyes had always been the window to his soul but now all Sam could see was an emptiness that frightened him. He had done this. He was responsible for this. Sam looked away not able to bear seeing what he had been responsible for. He could almost feel the misery and hurt vibrating off his brother. "I came to talk," he finally said forcing himself to look Dean in the eye. 

Dean scowled and cocked his head to one side. "So talk," he waved a hand in the air. "I'm all ears." He gave a harsh bark-like laugh and scowled at his brother again. 

Sam heard the bitter ness in Dean's words but he also heard the underlying hurt tainting the bitterness. "Dean," he started to say. 

"Don't you damn well Dean me," Dean interrupted with a snarl as his temper flared out of control. "Say what you came to say. Then get your pregnant ass the hell outta here... away from me." 

Dean's words stung and Sam bit back an angry retort. He had to stay calm he kept telling himself over and over for his sake, for Dean's sake and for his baby's sake. "I guess I deserved that," he said instead. 

"Yeah," Dean snapped. "Yeah.... you did." Dean started to pace up and down. "So spit it out Sam and then go away," he glared at his brother. 

"I don't want to go away," Sam replied stubbornly. "I want to stay here... with you." He folded his arms across the top of his belly and jutted his chin out. 

Dean rolled his eyes at the familiar stubborn stance. "Don't really care what you want any more," he shrugged as he stopped pacing. "And you gave up the right to be with me when you screwed another guy." 

Sam flinched at the harsh words. "I'm still not going," he said firmly. 

"You're not going," Dean shrugged again. "Hey.... that's OK. Because I'm leaving tomorrow. Just me. The Impala. And the open road." 

"What?" Sam said not able to keep the surprise and shock out of his tone. 

"I'm leaving here tomorrow," Dean repeated with a glare. "Gonna get my life back on track," he scowled at Sam leaning closer. "Without you. So say what you have to and then go. So I can start my new life." 

Sam didn't want to believe that Dean was leaving but he could see the truth in his brother's eyes. Dean was leaving, going away to make a new life without him and if Sam was really honest with himself he knew he deserved the treatment, knew that he deserved to be alone without Dean. But it still hurt and Sam hugged his arms around his body as he bit at his lips nervously. He still needed to tell Dean what he had come to say but his well rehearsed speech died on his lips as he looked up at his brother and saw the raw pain on Dean's face. "I came....," he stammered before taking a long deep breath. It was now or never. "I came to say that... that I'm sorry. Sorry for hurting you. Sorry for... for being angry at you and making the biggest mistake of my .... my life. Sorry... well sorry for everything," he finished. 

"That it?" Dean asked stonily. 

"Yeah... I guess," Sam admitted. The words sounded hollow and desperate to his own ears and he couldn't begin to imagine what they sounded like to Dean, having his pregnant with another man's child brother standing in front of him telling him that he was sorry. It was pathetic, desperate and stupid and at that moment Sam knew he was losing Dean and felt totally helpless to prevent it. 

All the fight seemed to leave Dean and a feeling of utter despair washed over him making him feel drained. He blew out a deep breath as he stared at his brother. Dean could see the truth in Sam's eyes and could also see the love shining out the pale eyes coloured with a tiny piece of hope. Dean stared down at the ground kicking distractedly at the gravel. "I know you're sorry Sam," he finally acknowledged. Dean really did know that Sam was sorry, had always known that his brother was sorry but it didn't change a thing - his heart was still broken and he still felt betrayed. It hurt, a deep abiding hurt that ran deep inside him like a ragged scar that ached even when it was healed. Dean stared distractedly at the gravel for a moment gathering up his strength, his resolve. 

A small slither of hope blossomed in Sam's heart at Dean's words and he took a nervous step forwards. "Then you'll come home?" he asked not able to keep the hope out of voice. 

Dean shook his head. "But it don't change anything," he looked up at Sam. "You being sorry doesn't change a thing," he waved a hand at Sam's pregnant stomach. "Nothing will." 

Sam felt immediately crushed, the hope he had felt momentarily dying and fading within him. "Please Dean," he begged. "Come home. Let's work this out. Let's talk. We can work this out. I know we can. Please." 

"No," Dean replied. "I don't wanna work it out. Ever. I'm leaving tomorrow. My mind's made up..... and I aint ever coming back." He knew he was being cruel but Dean no longer cared. He just wanted to be alone, away from Sam and the life he had desperately craved, the life where he had been so happy. Dean wanted to be alone with only his misery for company. 

"But I love you," Sam whispered not able to keep the hint of desperation out of his voice. He knew it was selfish, knew that it sounded selfish but he couldn't help himself. He loved Dean so much and wanted his brother to know how he felt. "Please." 

Sam's words stung at Dean, each word knifing him through the heart twisting and wounding him. "You love me?" Dean shouted as he grabbed for a wrench waving it in the air. All the pain and misery he had denied himself feeling for the past six weeks suddenly and unexpectedly bubbled up inside him rising to the surface fuelling his temper. Dean could feel his control wavering as his anger and hurt pulsed uncontrollably through his veins, his whole body. Dean glared at Sam. 

Sam took a nervous step back even though he knew, deep down, that his brother would never intentionally hurt him. "Dean," he said anxiously eyeing the wrench as he laid a protective arm over his belly.

"You stand there.... all pregnant and say you love me?" Dean snarled. Keeping his eyes on Sam he lashed out with his right arm smashing the driver's window of the mustang. The glass flew outwards showering Dean with tiny shards of glass.

Sam flinched at the sound of the glass breaking. "Dean," he pleaded. "Stop it."

Dean glared at him before turning back to the mustang. Rage took control and Dean welcomed it, drowning in the feeling of the fury raging through his body. He hadn't felt this out of control since his father's death when he had beaten his precious Impala with a metal pole. Dean tensed his arm. "You cheated on me," he screamed moving to the next window thrusting the wrench through the glass. Dean dragged the wrench out of the hole he had made. "You screwed with another guy," he swung the wrench beating the back window repeatedly until it broke under the force of the out of control strikes. Red faced Dean glared at Sam again. "You got yourself pregnant," he smashed the next window into a thousand pieces ignoring the flying glass that stung at his bare arms.

"Bobby," Sam shouted desperately above the sound of breaking glass as Dean demolished the next window with the wrench. "Bobby." He turned back towards Dean and watched in fascinated horror as his brother pounded out his anger on the mustang. He wanted to move but his feet were frozen to the spot. "Bobby," he yelled again desperately hoping that the older man would hear his cries. 

"And you have the balls to stand there and tell me that you love me," Dean yelled as he pounded on the mustang's windscreen over and over. "Well.... news flash," he turned angry eyes on Sam. "I don't want to be your lover," Dean hit the windscreen again. "Or your damn brother. I just wanna be left alone," he wielded the wrench again bouncing it off the glass. "I hate you," he screamed as the windscreen glass finally imploded under the force of his final hit. Dean threw the wrench to one side. The metallic sound of the wrench hitting the floor echoed into the stunned silence that now surrounded the two men. Dean bent over, his hands on his knees, breathing hard trying desperately to catch his breath. He glanced sideways shocked at the damage he had inflicted on the mustang. Blood ran down his arms where the glass shards had pierced his skin but Dean ignored the stinging pain of the small cuts. Dean glanced up at Sam who stood frozen to the spot a look of shock across his pale face. "I hate you," Dean whispered as the anger drained out of him disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. Dean felt nothing, just a strange sense of calm, of numbness, of emptiness. 

Before Sam could do or say anything else Bobby chose that moment to arrive puffing at the effort having heard the younger man's panicked screams and the sound of breaking glass. "What the hell?" Bobby stared open mouthed at the wrecked mustang. Glass was strewn all around the wrecked vehicle and Dean and Sam were standing in silence staring at each other, both pale faced, both shocked. 

Dean recovered first. "Now get the hell outta my face," he shoved past Sam heading towards the house. "I'll pay for the damage Bobby," Dean shouted over his shoulder before disappearing into the house and slamming the door. 

Bobby stared at the destroyed mustang again before glancing towards Sam. The younger man was still staring at the spot where Dean had been standing. He was trembling and Bobby could see the tears forming in his eyes. "You OK Sam?" Bobby took hold of the younger man's arm and lead him over to another car making him sit on the hood. He laid a calming hand on Sam's knee relieved when he felt the trembling slowly fade. 

"He hates me," Sam murmured. His child gave him a hefty kick and he flinched rubbing at his stomach. "I know I .... I deserved everything he said...I know I hurt him .... but... but he hates me," he managed to choke out. 

"Sam?" Bobby said worried. 

"I'm OK Bobby," Sam gave the older man a small reassuring smile. 

"You sure?" Bobby asked again. 

"Yeah," Sam replied. "I guess the kid didn't like all the shouting and stuff." 

"Do you need anything?" Bobby asked still worried. 

"No," Sam shook his head. "He's leaving." His heart lurched at the thought of never seeing Dean again. "But I love him," he whispered knowing it sounded childish. 

Bobby sighed as he sat down next to Sam. "I know," he said gently. "On both counts. But if it's any consolation I made Dean to promise to call me every week and I know he will. He won't go back on his promise." 

Sam gave a small nod. "He hates me," he repeated softly. 

Bobby patted Sam's knee. "You know my old grannie used to tell me that love and hate are flip sides of a coin," Bobby said. 

"I don't know what that means," Sam turned confused eyes towards Bobby. 

"Me neither," Bobby gave Sam a half smile. 

"I don't want him to leave," Sam turned away and stared into the distance. "I want him to stay. I know... know it's selfish. But I want him to stay," Sam said softly. 

Bobby patted the younger man's knee again. The next words would be hard, would hurt Sam but Bobby knew it was for the best. "Sam. You need to let him go. Let him leave," he started to say. 

"What?" Sam snapped not able to believe that Bobby could be so cruel to him. 

"Sam," Bobby said as calmly as he could. "You know that hard-headed brother better than any man... and you know.... here," he patted Sam's chest. "That Dean has to work this... this thing between you both out for himself. And just may be when he does and gets his head outta his ass, he'll come back to you. Give you a second chance." 

Sam considered Bobby's words for a moment. He knew, deep down, that Bobby was right. Dean had to work this out for himself. He had to give Dean time and space even though it would be hard for him. But he had to stop being selfish and give Dean all the time and space he needed. Sam blew out a long breath. "Do you really think so?" he said letting hope soak through his words. 

"Yeah," Bobby murmured. "It may not seem like it at the moment but Dean still loves you. He knows it. You know it. Hell even I know it," he smiled at Sam and was rewarded with a small answering smile from the younger man. And Bobby really did believe that the brothers still stood a chance but Sam had to let Dean go, had to let Dean work it out for himself. Work out his pain and grief. "It'll be OK Sam," he reassured. "You'll see.. and in the meantime I'll be here for you and the little one. You won't be alone. OK?" 

Sam nodded slightly. "OK," he agreed still not hundred percent convinced but it seemed like his only hope. "Thanks Bobby," he gave the older man another small grateful smile. His heart felt heavy but deep inside him, Sam let a small piece of hope survive and clung onto it for all he was worth. He would wait. Wait for Dean to come back to him. 

  
**Two and a half hours later.....**

Bobby was tired, bone weary, as he shut the door behind him. He had insisted on driving Sam home, still worried about the younger man. He had then made Sam something to eat, stayed while he ate it and left him on the couch covered with a blanket, the phone on the coffee table and the television tuned into an inane comedy show. He had been torn, wanting to stay with Sam, but at the same time wanting to check on Dean. Sam had somehow read his mind insisting he was fine and urging Bobby to go home. Sam had out-stubborned him and Bobby had finally relented with the promise of visiting the next day. 

Bobby scrubbed a hand over his face. Time to check up on the elder Winchester. He slowly climbed the stairs and made his way to the room that Dean was staying in. The door was slightly ajar and he lifted his hand to knock on the door before entering when he heard it. Muffled sobbing. Dean was crying. It shocked him, not able to remember the last time he had seen Dean cry. Bobby pushed at the door slightly and peered into the room. Dean was laying on his side, his back to the door, curled around a pillow. His head was pressed into the pillow but Bobby could still hear the heart wrenching sobs that wracked the younger man's body making the bed shake slightly as he surrendered to his misery. 

Bobby backed away from the door deciding to leave Dean to his grief and pain knowing that the younger man probably wouldn't welcome the intrusion. Bobby sighed to himself as he dragged himself tiredly along the hallway to his own bedroom. It was going to be a long summer.

  
**To be continued...........**


	4. Summer Storm

  
Author's notes: This chapter is all Dean. Sorry Sammy fans but I promise he will be in the next chapter. I hope you enjoy. Calysta  


* * *

**Four months later......**

Dean sat in the corner of the smoky bar. He sat in the same booth every night nursing a solitary beer. From his position he could all the exits, the windows and the main bar area. Dean's eyes darted around scrutinising the bar area, the customers as they came and went, the bar tender as he served beer. He noticed everything - it was an old habit that he couldn't seem to break. 

The juke box was playing softly in the background, a tune that Dean didn't recognise or like, and it wasn't loud enough to drown out his thoughts. Apart from the music the bar was quiet with only three other customers who were sitting at the bar. He recognised them. They came in every night together sitting at the bar on the tall stools and drank beer until closing time. Sometimes they played pool, sometimes darts but mostly they drank beer after beer, their conversation getting louder and louder with each drink. Dean ignored them, only giving them a cursory glance when they came into the bar, as he had done every evening for the last month. On the first night they had invited him to join them but Dean had refused preferring his own company. They had persisted and Dean had seen a different kind of invitation in the taller of the group's eyes. He refused their invitation, spoken and unspoken, taking his beer to his usual corner booth and turning away from them. After three nights they finally gave up but Dean knew he was still being watched with hungry eyes. It should have unsettled him or excited him or something but Dean felt nothing just a heavy weariness that threatened to smother him with its suffocating presence. 

Dean sighed to himself and stared down at the amber liquid. He ran his fingers up and down the glass revelling in the way the coolness of the glass chilled his heated fingers. Condensation ran down the glass pooling in small puddles on the scratched wooden surface of the table. He took a quick gulp of the beer savouring the taste and coolness of the liquid as he swallowed. It had been a long sticky summer with no rain or cool breezes to give relief from the constant oppression of the sultry weather they were currently experiencing. The sun burned bright and hot during the day and at night, despite the inky darkness, the air remained damp and suffocatingly humid making it hard to sleep. 

Dean didn't really notice though as he didn't really sleep much any more. He slept fitfully tossing and turning his body desperately trying to find a cool spot in the bed, desperately trying to push away the dreams that assailed his sleep every night. Dreams filled with memories of Sam. Memories of Sam as a child - small, loving and trusting. The child who smelled of talcum powder and teddy bears, the child who gave him cuddles telling Dean that he loved him every day. Memories of Sam as a teenager - freakishly tall, stubborn and wilful. The teenager who didn't want to be a hunter, who wanted to be a lawyer, wanted to be normal. Memories of Sam who had given up his normal life to stand at his side, watching his back, as they fought evil and the supernatural creatures that threatened their existence and that of others. Memories of Sam as his lover - gentle, loving and traitorous. The word had popped into his head unconsciously and Dean sighed again cursing himself. He couldn't seem to stop his mind torturing him, day and night, with images of Sam having sex with another man, of Sam pregnant with another man's child. Whatever he did or wherever he went, the image stayed with Dean in full technicolour tormenting him, making the ache deep within him intensify. The ache spread within him, like a disease, and Dean allowed it to consume all his good memories of Sam and their life together, allowing the hurt he still felt to drown him in only the bad memories - the misery, the pain and the betrayal. 

Dean shook himself away from his memories and scanned the bar again. Annoyed at himself for the old habit, Dean slumped back in the chair and let his mind wander forcing any thoughts of Sam away. 

He had been in the small town in the middle of no-where for a month, the longest amount of time he had stayed anywhere in the last four months. Dean liked the town for some reason that he couldn't explain even to himself. It was quiet and anonymous and he could hide here. Hide from everything and everyone, even himself. He had found a job at a small diner on the edge of town. The diner was busy because of the highway that ran close by and the owners, Faith and her husband Andrew, needed the help as Andrew was in the hospital following a hip replacement operation. Faith ran the kitchen and Dean did everything else with the help of two part-time waitresses. He waited tables, repaired their aged equipment, kept their truck running, picked up the supplies and sometimes even helped in the kitchen. It wasn't his job of choice but Dean didn't really have any qualifications and he had found himself enjoying it nonetheless. It gave him something other than his unhappiness to think about and for that he was grateful. 

It had never crossed his mind and Dean hadn't even considered taking up hunting again. It held little appeal for him any more. His days as Dean Winchester Hunter of the Supernatural were over and if he were really honest with himself had been over since the day Sam told him that he loved and wanted him. Dean pointedly ignored the little voice in his head telling him over and over that it was because he and Sam had promised each other they wouldn't ever hunt again, that they would settle down in a life together. The promise had been important to Dean and he had kept it only breaking it once because he felt a sense of obligation to pay Bobby back in some way for his help when Sam had been in the hospital. That broken promise had cost him the life he had craved for so long, the life he had come to love as well as the person he loved. 

Dean stared down at his beer again willing the images of Sam out of his head and forcing his thoughts back to the months he had been on the road, alone. Before arriving in the small town, Dean had spent three months travelling a lonely road heading no-where in particular, running away from his life, Sam and even himself. The deafening silence had been his only company as he drove from town to town finding work where he could and living in ratty run down motels. It was strangely familiar to him even though something was missing. Something important and it hurt deep down inside him. 

Dean knew he was just existing. He wasn't living or feeling. Nothing interested him any more. He didn't pick fights, didn't drink much, didn't play pool or gamble and he didn't pick up women or men. He just worked where he could, collected his pay and went back to a lonely and empty motel room and stared at the television until he fell asleep. It was as though the life had been sucked out of him leaving him desolate and stripped of everything that made him Dean Winchester. He was lonely and miserable. The pain was raw, the wounds open and somewhere on the road, Dean has lost himself, lost who he was. He felt closed off from everyone and everything, even himself. For a while Dean had waited for the tears, waited for the relief they might bring but they never came and he hadn't cried since the day he had told Sam he was leaving. He stubbornly decided that tears weren't for Dean Winchester and his life wasn't worth wasting tears on any way. Sam had made him feel alive, made the loneliness he had lived with all his life disappear with his soft loving words and reassurances that everything would be fine. But Sam had destroyed everything leaving Dean lonely again. Dean yearned to feel alive again, even if it was just for a few minutes. 

The only constant was Bobby who called him every other day - sometimes he answered but more often than not he ignored the incessant ringing of his cell phone too tired to listen to his friend. Bobby was persistent though - he always left a message and then called the next day. He never gave up on Dean. Dean was the only person guilty of giving up on himself and surrendering to the darkness of his unhappiness. When Bobby called Dean never asked about Sam, couldn't bring himself to ask but his friend always volunteered the information anyway as if he sensed that Dean really wanted to know. Deep down Dean wanted to hear about Sam, wanted to know that his brother was alright but hearing about Sam always hurt making him ache for the life he had turned his back on. So many times Dean had turned the Impala around intent on going home but each time the image of Sam writhing naked with another man assailed his mind making him stamp on the brakes or pull over onto the side of the road. It always took him a while to calm himself before he headed the Impala in the opposite direction to home, returning to his lonely highway. 

Dean was used to being alone, had been alone before when his father had up and deserted him, but this time it seemed more lonely, more solitary than before. In the past he had always sought out company usually in a bar always finding someone to share a beer and his bed. But now he just preferred his own company and had long ago decided that the saying misery loves company wasn't true. He didn't want company - Dean just wanted to be alone with his thoughts. He missed Sam with a vengeance he couldn't really explain. Sam had cheated on him but Dean found himself inexplicably wanting to forgive his brother. He had always forgiven Sam in the past, knew that his brother had expected to be forgiven but this time was different. This time Sam had broken his heart, his trust and Dean didn't think he could ever forgive that. He admitted to himself in the darkness at night, as he lay awake, that he loved Sam, would always love Sam but knowing that didn't change the fact that Sam had cheated on him. 

Dean was so confused about his feelings, about how he felt. Pain, hurt, fear and betrayal were all lurking just under the surface but the overriding emotion was an abject misery that he couldn't shake. He was miserable without Sam in his life but knew that he would probably be miserable if he had Sam in his life. It was all so confusing and messed up that it made his head spin with conflicting and warring emotions. 

Dean blew out a breath. He was tired. Tired of being miserable. Tired of the self-imposed solitude. Tired of travelling a road that went no-where, towards no-one. Dean looked up scanning the bar area again. The taller man in the group at the bar was still casting furtive glances his way, had been all night, Dean knew. Had felt eyes boring into his very soul all night, could almost feel the hunger in the air. Dean toyed with a night of angry sex before dismissing it almost immediately. That was Sam's style Dean thought bitterly. Dean drained his glass, dragged himself to his feet and left the bar knowing that another sleepless night loomed ahead of him. 

  
**The next morning....**

The next morning found Dean in the diner early as usual finally giving up the battle to sleep at six o'clock. As he had walked to the diner from the motel Dean could tell that it would be another hot sultry day. There had been no breeze and the air had been heavy with humidity. It was now seven thirty and he had swept and cleaned every floor and surface, had even cleaned the bathroom. Dean had turned on the grills, the oven and gotten out the supplies for breakfast knowing that Faith and Angie, one of the waitresses, would be arriving any time soon. He was now busily preparing himself for the breakfast rush which usually started an hour after opening. "Yay," he congratulated himself silently as his test slice of bread popped out of the newly repaired toaster. "Take that bitch," Dean glared at the toaster daring it to burn the toast that morning.

Dean turned as he heard the door opening. He groaned to himself as he watched the tall man from the bar flop down in a booth, grab a menu and scan its contents. Dean moved towards the table. "What can I get you?" he asked. "We don't start breakfast for another half hour. But I can do coffee and toast."

"Sounds good to me," the man sprawled along the seat and grinned up at Dean. He leaned forward slightly offering Dean his hand. "Matthew," he introduced himself. "And you are?" 

Dean ignored the hand and the question as he took a moment to study Matthew. He was good looking, not really his type, but from seeing the man at the bar every night, Dean knew he was as tall as him but probably weighed thirty pounds more. He was solidly built with broad shoulders and his muscles rippled under his faded blue shirt. His skin was lightly tanned and he had sun bleached blonde hair. Icy blue eyes stared at him challengingly as Matthew licked his lips. "I'll be back with your coffee," Dean said evenly. 

"You didn't tell me your name," Matthew grinned again. "I like to know who's serving me my morning coffee." 

Dean rolled his eyes. "Dean," he said curtly as he turned away moving towards the counter. He stuffed two pieces of bread in the toaster and fiddled with the ancient coffee machine coaxing it into giving him a decent mug of coffee ignoring the fact that he knew that Matthew was staring at him. He could feel the icy blue eyes boring into his back and it made him shiver. He had the insane thought that he was prey, that he was being hunted. "Stop it," Dean chastised himself as he took the coffee, cutlery and plate of warm toast to Matthew's table. He slid the mug and plate across the table. 

As he slid the napkin-wrapped cutlery towards the place setting, Matthew put his large hand over Dean's and smirked. Dean looked down at the hand over his noticing, for some insane reason, that Matthew's finger nails were all chewed down and ragged looking. He looked back up into Matthew's eyes narrowing his own slightly. "Has anyone ever told you that you have beautiful green eyes?" Matthew asked cocking his head to one side as he stroked his fingers across Dean's hand. Dean shivered and Matthew took it as a positive sign shooting Dean a smug smile. He curled his hand around Dean's and squeezed tightly. He smiled again but this time it was predatory borne out of his own self-confidence. 

"No," Dean snapped as he tried to pull his hand away. It was a lie and his stomach clenched painfully at the memories of Sam telling him the exact thing. He closed his eyes against the memories that assaulted him but he could almost hear his brother's voice whispering to him, almost feel a wisp of breath on his skin as Sam moved closer to him. Dean let the memories wash over him savouring and re-living them. A calmness he hadn't felt in months washed over him, immediately disappearing as a strange voice broke into his memories and Dean snapped his eyes open. He looked down at his hand to see it still clasped in Matthew's firm grip. Dean glared at Matthew as he tried to snatch his hand away. 

Matthew held on tight grinning up at him. "Well I think you have very beautiful eyes," he squeezed Dean's hand as he let his eyes drift hungrily up and down Dean's body making his intent clear in his expression. He licked his lips again. "And it's not just your eyes that are beautiful," Matthew smirked again supremely confident with himself. He was used to getting what he wanted and Matthew wanted this man. The man he had been watching for a month, the man that refused and ignored him every night in the bar. Matthew let his eyes drift up and down Dean's body again admiringly, taking in every detail from his angular face with the pouty kissable lips to his broad chest, narrow waist and hips right down to his firm muscled legs. Matthew thought that Dean personified natural beauty but seemed to be completely unaware that he oozed sex appeal with a hint of vulnerability. Matthew liked what he saw and quickly scanned Dean's body again. Dean's jeans hung low on his hips and the t-shirt he was wearing hugged his body accentuating his narrow waist despite the green apron he was wearing. Getting Dean into his bed was a challenge that Matthew was determined to win. 

Dean hesitated. Matthew obviously wanted him, couldn't disguise the hunger in the blueness of his eyes and was making his intentions plain with no hint of embarrassment or restraint. Dean was tempted. Tempted to let this man take him. Tempted to let himself feel again even if it was just a one time thing. Dean stared at Matthew for a moment as his mind warred with itself. Dean knew that he had lost weight, probably had dark circles under his eyes and pale sickly looking skin but he could tell from the hungry and desirous expression on Matthew's face that he still looked good.

Matthew smiled his predatory smile again showing all his teeth and Dean could almost feel the triumph oozing out of the man's pores. Matthew's whole demeanour shouted victory and Dean shivered again despite himself. Matthew took his trembling as a positive sign and pulled Dean closer. He reached up running his free hand down Dean's face. Dean flinched at the touch and pulled back disgusted with himself for even considering letting this man touch him. He wasn't interested and if he was honest with himself had never been interested. "Let go," Dean leaned forward slightly. "Or I'll break your damn arm," he snarled.

"I like a man with spirit," Matthew chuckled completely missing the hint of danger in Dean's tone. He used the advantage of having Dean's hand tight in his grip to pull Dean closer. He wasn't going to take no for an answer. 

"I mean it," Dean threatened. "I'm not interested in anything you have to offer." 

"I always get what I want," Matthew persisted with a snarl of his own. 

"Not this time asshole," Dean snapped. "Now get your damn hands off me," he said finally tugging his hand free of Matthew's grip. He backed away from the table glaring at Matthew. "I'll get your check," he snapped. 

Matthew rose quickly to his feet, slid out of the booth and grabbed Dean spinning him around. In almost the same manoeuvre he pushed Dean backwards. The move caught Dean by surprise and he stumbled clumsily. Matthew pressed home his advantage and grabbed Dean by his apron shoving him backwards again. "Now don't play hard to get," Matthew sneered as he thrust Dean hard against the wall. 

Still slightly off balance Dean's head snapped back hitting the wall with a hard thudding sound that seemed to echo around the empty diner. Dean immediately saw stars and could feel the darkness closing in on him. He closed his eyes trying to stave off the dizziness and the stars he could still see behind his eyes. He felt sick and his knees buckled slightly. "Get off," he mumbled as he struggled against Matthew's hold. 

Matthew laughed taking full advantage of Dean's dazed state by grabbing both his arms and pinning them hard against the wall with his strong hands. At the same time he leaned forwards pressing the length of his body against Dean. "You want me... you know you do," Matthew whispered in Dean's ear. 

Dean groaned as he shook his head trying desperately to clear the fuzziness. Panic rushed through his body, his mouth was suddenly dry and he could feel his heart thundering loudly in his chest not really knowing or understanding how he had ended up trapped against a wall by another man. He battled against the arms pinning him to the wall, could feel Matthew's finger tips digging into his skin and guessed he would have bruises tomorrow. Dean huffed out a breath in an effort to calm himself and pushed outwards with his body trying to force Matthew off him. Matthew smirked to himself - Dean was making it too easy for him. He smirked again pressing his body harder against Dean determined to show this man just who was in charge. He had used the same tactic time and time again and it never failed him. Dean was his for the taking. 

"Get the hell off me," Dean yelled which made his head hurt. He kicked out and caught Matthew on the shin with the tip of his boot. 

"Bastard," Matthew yelped releasing one hand and back-handing Dean across the face. 

The slap stung his skin and added to the number of stars Dean was still seeing behind his eyes. He groaned and tried to kick outwards again but found that Matthew had somehow completely trapped him using every inch of his heavy muscled body and Dean knew without a doubt that Matthew had done this before. He tried to kick out again without success. Giving up on the kicking, Dean changed tactics and began to struggle against the strong hold of his arms again but Matthew only increased his grip and pressed even harder against his body. Dean groaned again and wondered just how he had allowed himself to become a victim. Somehow during the last few months he had become a victim. Of this man, of Sam and even of himself. He had been so busy drowning in self-pity, hurt and misery that Dean had forgotten who he was, what he wanted from life. Something snapped deep within him freeing him from the bubble of grief and hurt that had been surrounding and stifling him. He decided, through gritted teeth, that today Dean Winchester was going to take control of his life again. Dean stopped struggling and glared at Matthew. 

Matthew laughed and kicked Dean's legs apart shoving one of his own between them. "I don't like being ignored," Matthew hissed nastily as he ground his hips against Dean. "And I want you." 

"Too bad," Dean forced out. He could feel Matthew's growing hardness against his body and he swallowed, his mouth going dry again. "You can't have me," he croaked, cursing himself for the crack in his voice. 

"I always get what I want," Matthew said with a confident grin as he continued to rub against Dean. 

"Not this time," Dean snarled. Without warning he took a deep calming breath and relaxed his whole body. The move seemed to surprise Matthew and he stepped back slightly loosening his grip, wrongly assuming that Dean was surrendering to him. He grinned loosening his grip even more. 

Never one to miss an opportunity when it was offered Dean shook his arms free from the Matthew's grip, put his hands flat on the other man's chest and shoved hard. Before Matthew could retaliate Dean quickly followed the shove with a well aimed punch to the tanned face bloodying Matthew's nose. Matthew yelped in pain and surprise staggering backwards away from Dean putting one hand up to his now bleeding nose. He wiped at the blood with the back of his hand. "You bastard," Matthew growled as he advanced on Dean, his blue eyes flashing with rage. He launched himself at Dean smacking him hard in the eye. 

Dean reeled back against the wall but managed to recover enough to get another punch in, his fist connecting with Matthew's jaw. Dean followed the punch with a swift kick to Matthew's shin. Matthew cried out, stumbled off balance falling to the floor in an undignified heap. He grabbed his still bleeding nose and stared up at Dean shocked at the change in behaviour and demeanour. Matthew could now see danger glinting in the green eyes glaring down at him, could see the danger vibrating through Dean's whole body and he decided to stay on the floor having a feeling that this was now a fight he wouldn't win, had a feeling that Dean would definitely break his arm if he made another move. 

Dean glared down at Matthew daring him to move. His head and eye hurt, his knuckles smarted, his skin stung where Matthew had slapped him across the face and Dean could almost feel the adrenalin coursing and pumping through his body. He bounced slightly on his feet as he huffed out a few calming breaths. For the first time in four months, Dean felt strangely alive and at that moment, for some peculiar reason, felt like he was no longer just existing in a pool of self-imposed misery. Despite the lingering despair Dean felt strangely liberated. He had taken charge of his life again and it made him smile to himself. 

He looked down at Matthew again really wanting to pummel the man into the ground but Dean resisted the urge not sure that he could stop once he had started. Breathing hard, Dean glanced sideways and instead grabbed the large jug of water from the counter and threw it at Matthew soaking the man completely. Matthew spluttered but remained silent, still in a state of shock at the noticeable change in his prey. "Something to cool your ass off," Dean snapped. "And don't bother with a tip....it's on the house," he said as he turned and headed for the kitchen. "Now get the hell outta here," Dean threw over his shoulder. 

Dean could feel the adrenalin draining from his body and could feel himself trembling, losing control. He clenched his fists against the sensation willing himself to keep calm. His chest tightened and suddenly he couldn't breathe. The walls were closing in on him and he felt dizzy. He had to get out. Faith and Angie had just arrived for work and he ignored their questioning looks and unspoken concern hurrying past them towards the door. 

Dean grabbed the handle, flung the door open and burst out of the diner into the sultry air. His heart was racing and his breath was coming in short, sharp bursts. Dean staggered towards the wall at the back of the diner and half slumped against the coolness of the bricks desperately trying to drag air into his now oxygen starved lungs. He could hear his heart beat thudding loudly in his ears and he drew his hands up trying to block out the sound. He slipped down the wall until he was sitting on the ground, his hands still over his ears. In his head, Dean forced himself to count slowly willing himself to calm down, to breathe normally. Slowly he could feel the panic subsiding, feel his heart beat slowing and was able to draw breathe more easily. Dean concentrated all his efforts and focus on breathing in and out. 

As he calmed Dean let his mind wander and time seemed to pass him by as his lonely four months replayed in his mind as though he was watching a recording on the television. Dean stared blankly into the distance, lost in his thoughts and memories. 

A noise to the side jolted him away from his memories and Dean dragged himself slowly to his feet. He looked up towards the sky not sure how long he had been outside. Dean frowned not really sure when the clear blue summer sky had disappeared to be replaced by angry grey clouds. It was raining and he hadn't noticed, so lost in his thoughts. The air was no longer humid or oppressive and a light breeze accompanied the rain. Dean shivered as the cooling rain caressed and soaked him rejuvenating him. He frowned again licking at his lips confused. He tasted salt. Reaching up with one hand Dean touched his face. His face was damp but not from the rain. His face was damp with tears and he wiped at his eyes with the back of one hand. He was crying. Leaning forward Dean hugged himself tightly as he rocked back and forwards letting the unshed tears, built up and shoved deep inside him for four months, flow freely releasing him from the death grip of his despair. Dean let go of his hurt, his pain and the anger he felt at Sam's betrayal. All his feelings of rage seemed to drain out of him, washed away by his healing tears. 

The pain was so intense he thought his heart would break. Dean continued to hug himself rocking back and forwards trying to stop the agony that blossomed throughout his body. Dean choked back sobs and panted heavily as he struggled to breathe. He sucked in long breaths and gradually Dean managed to calm himself again as he let his tears dry on his face. 

Dean turned his face up towards the sky. He closed his eyes as he let the rain beat down on his skin, the rain drops mixing and joining with his drying tears. It was time and he had to know. Had to know if he could forgive Sam. It was time for Dean Winchester to go home. 

**To be continued................**


	5. Summer Breeze

  
Author's notes: Thought that Sam deserved his own chapter, so here it is. Dean will be back in the next and final chapter. Enjoy. Calysta  


* * *

Sam leaned against the door frame and stared distractedly out into the garden. Even though it was raining, light refreshing rain, Sam had the french windows open allowing the cool breeze to circulate around the house. After the long hot summer with its days filled with humid and sultry air it was a relief and Sam turned his face into the breeze soaking up the coolness, revelling in the feeling as it caressed his heated skin. 

Sam absently caressed his swollen belly trying to calm the child within, a son his doctor had informed a month ago. His baby had been kicking him hard all morning and it was beginning to wear on Sam. With about five weeks to go before the expected birth, he was hot and tired, his back hurt, his legs and ankles ached and the bathroom had become his new best friend as his child insisted on bouncing up and down on his bladder at all hours of the day and night. Added to all this Sam had been experiencing small niggling pains on and off for the last two days which he had been stubbornly ignoring. It was too early to think about the forthcoming labour. He straightened up trying to get comfortable.

Sam rubbed at his belly again sighing to himself. He let his eyes wander around the small garden. Dampened and shiny with the summer rain, it was overgrown, unloved and untidy. Weeds flourished in the borders where flowers should have blossomed and the few shrubs that were still living had grown large and unwieldy, their shadows killing the grass underneath. What was left of the lawn was overgrown, brown and slowly dying, a combination of the heat and Sam's neglect. Sam sighed again. He hadn't touched the garden since the day Dean had left, ignoring it and leaving it to its own devices. Even Dean's shovel lay abandoned where he had dropped it on the afternoon that Sam had confessed his guilty secret. Bobby had offered to work on the garden but Sam had refused, a small part of him wanting and believing that Dean would return to finish the work some day. Sam knew it was stupid and totally irrational but he clung desperately onto the small glimmer hope as though his life depended upon it. 

The last four months had been hard for Sam. Four long and lonely months with every long hot day seeming longer than its twenty-four hours. Sam knew he deserved to be alone for what he had done to Dean but knowing didn't make it any easier for him. Bobby had persuaded him not to try and contact Dean, to let his brother leave and work things out for himself. He had argued against the advice, been reluctant to agree but Sam knew, deep down, that Bobby was right. It had been pure torture resisting the temptation to bombard his brother with phone calls and text messages and he had spent hours just staring down at his cell phone his fingers poised over the keys, over Dean's speed dial number. He had to call up every bit of stubborn determination he possessed not to dial Dean's number but he had somehow succeeded. Dean needed time. Time to be alone. Time away from him. Time to heal. Every day the temptation had lessened a little but even now Sam sometimes found himself with his cell phone clutched in his hand staring down at the small screen, Dean's number selected, desperately wanting to call Dean, desperately wanting to hear his soft voice. Wanting to hear the forgiveness he craved. 

Sam was miserable. The only bright spot in his crappy life had been Bobby. Over the last few months Bobby had been a constant, had been his friend. Never judging or admonishing Sam for his stupidity in wrecking his relationship with Dean, Bobby had been there for him, never asking for further details, keeping him sane and making sure he looked after himself. Sam was extremely fond of Bobby and found himself looking forward to his daily visits. His little inner voice kept telling him that it was because Bobby was a link to Dean. Sam never asked about Dean and was even careful not to ask. He was secretly afraid that his brother may have moved on with his life, but Bobby always found a way to assure him that everything was OK, that Dean was alright. Bobby's visits and knowing that Dean was alright helped his black mood slightly but Sam still felt a desperate loneliness that he couldn't seem to shake. It surrounded him like a dark cloak filling his body and soul with a yearning Sam knew would never leave him. Sam could feel the threatening tears stinging at his eyes and he cursed the pregnancy hormones but knew, deep down, that they weren't solely responsible for his tears. 

Sam sniffed wiping at his eyes as his child gave him a series of hefty kicks reminding Sam that he wasn't really alone, that he had somebody else to live for. Sam knew that the knowledge that a child was growing inside him should help the way he felt but it didn't really. He still felt all alone. Sam looked down at his swollen belly as he rubbed his hand in circles over the bump. He sniffed again biting at his lip. This child should have been theirs, his and Dean's. His heart filled with regret and sadness, and Sam stifled the small sob that threatened to turn into a full-blown crying fit. Sam gritted his teeth against the feeling. Dean had desperately wanted them to have a family but Sam had persuaded him that they should wait until they were used to being a couple. It seemed so sensible at the time and Dean had reluctantly agreed. His brother had then embarked on his mission to redecorate and renovate the whole house and the garden in preparation for their future family. And Sam had cruelly taken that away from his brother and, if he was honest, himself as well. They should have been sharing the joy of his pregnancy, arguing over what colour to paint the nursery, building shelves and cribs and buying all manner of baby stuff and teddy bears. 

He had taken the joy out of his own pregnancy. Sam just couldn't bring himself to cherish what Dean should have been sharing with him. Bobby had taken him in hand one day, a month ago, forcing him into his truck and driving him to the nearest shopping mall. Sam had miserably dragged around after Bobby and let himself be persuaded and coerced into buying all the essentials for the care of a small baby - clothes, blankets, bottles as well as an array of soft toys, a crib, a bassinet and a car seat. Sam really appreciated the time Bobby took with him, mustered up fake enthusiasm for his friend's sake, but he couldn't really bring himself to care about colours or what teddy bear to buy. The shopping trip should have been fun and Sam should have felt excited but all he could think about was Dean and how enthusiastic his brother would have been to be shopping for their child. They would have ended up with all manner of impractical stuff but Sam would have been happy and more importantly Dean would have been happy. 

All the new stuff had been piled in the master bedroom, was still piled up in the master bedroom, not even unpacked. No amount of argument or pleading from Bobby had changed Sam's mind. The small room at the back of the house would never be a nursery. He knew it was stupid and childish but Sam was stubbornly determined so the nursery lay empty, undecorated and instead of being filled with baby essentials it was filled with old boxes of books. Sam had shut the door firmly on the small room and ignored it. The nursery like the garden lay abandoned and waiting. 

Sam leaned up against the cool glass and stared into the distance his thoughts, as always, full of Dean. They were apart and it broke Sam's heart to know that he was responsible for Dean being out there somewhere alone. He ignored the little voice in his head that kept tormenting him with the thought that Dean might not be alone. That may be Bobby hadn't told him everything. That may be Dean had found someone else to love him. Found somebody that would give him the love he so deserved. Found somebody that wouldn't take him for granted or cheat on him with another man. Sam shook his head pushing his fears down deep inside him. 

Sam sighed yet again letting his mind wander. Over the last few months he had changed his life. Sam had resigned from his teaching position at the university not wanting to be anywhere near Grady Mallory or any reminders of the biggest mistake of his life. But to his delight and surprise had found that his university days weren't completely over securing himself some research work from two professors that he could do at home. He did the research, typed up their papers and earned himself a decent amount of money for doing it. Word had gradually gotten around that he was a good researcher and Sam had found himself with offers of work from other professors who needed research and papers typed up. To supplement the income from the research work, Sam also had a part-time job at the local library which he loved surrounded by his other passion, books. 

Sam kept busy but filling his life with work didn't fill the void. The void that Dean owned and possessed. Would always own and possess. His guilt and shame had never really faded. It was with him, bubbling just under the surface, every day reminding him of what he had lost. Sam knew that he had to live with his actions, having the biggest reminder of his guilt growing within him. When Dean had left, Sam had turned his anger and hurt on his baby. For a while he had tried to hate the child and had even considered abortion but couldn't bring himself to do either. The child was innocent and he hated himself enough without punishing the baby for his own stupid mistake. Sam hated himself with a vengeance that wouldn't leave him and he knew the feelings of guilt, shame and loathing for himself would never leave him - they would follow him to his grave and beyond.

Sam couldn't forgive himself for cheating on the one person he loved more than life itself and didn't think that he would ever be able to forgive himself. The long lonely months had given him time to think, had given him the chance to take a good hard look at himself. It hadn't been pretty and Sam had found himself on many nights wrapped around Dean's pillow sobbing out his grief and regret. Regret at having hurt Dean so badly and completely destroying his love and trust. Dean didn't trust easily, had never trusted easily even as a child. Dean was naturally suspicious of everyone and everything but he had gradually let down his solid well-built defences and trusted Sam with his heart and his love. His brother had given his love freely without asking for anything in return and Sam had selfishly destroyed all of it in one night of angry sex with a man he didn't really like. Dean hated him and Sam knew it was his fault. He knew he had nobody to blame but himself. It was official. He was a selfish bastard and had paid the ultimate and highest price. The loss of the love of his life. And Sam Winchester hated himself a little bit more each day.

Laying awake most nights with his child kicking him hard in the ribs, Sam wished that he could turn back the clock and make it all disappear. Make Dean appear at his side to hold him close in the darkness. Sam knew he was being selfish again but he was so lonely without Dean. The loneliness gnawed at him, leaving a gaping open wound that no-one could heal except Dean. Sam ached to feel Dean's love again. It seemed like an out of reach pipe dream but Sam held onto the tiny bit of hope deep within that Dean would come back to him some day. Sam missed Dean so much. It was the simple small things like the out of tune singing in the shower every morning or the heavy rock music that filled their house and the Impala. He missed being teased. Missed being called Sammy. But most of all Sam missed the touches and the gentle caresses. He missed feeling the warmth of Dean pressed up against his back as they slept. 

Sam was nothing without Dean. It had been a startling revelation, a wake up call for Sam. He had never realised it before but Dean was his strength, his stability, the one who made him feel complete and had made him the man he was today and without Dean, Sam was nothing, incomplete, a no-one. In the past he had been the one to leave. As an angry young man Sam had found it so easy to leave the hunting life, his father and Dean. He selfishly hadn't looked back as he took off to college to the normal life he had craved for so long. But Dean had never left him, ever. So it had shocked him when Dean had found the strength from somewhere to walk out of the door away from him without a backward glance. It hurt. Hurt him deep inside and Sam guessed that it was a taste of what Dean had felt when he had left to go to Stanford. He had been mad at his father, had wanted to hurt his father but he knew now that leaving had hurt Dean too. 

Sam had to admit to himself that it also came as a bit of shock when Dean refused to forgive him. Sam was ashamed of the fact that he had always expected Dean to forgive him. The thought made him sick to his stomach that he had always taken Dean for granted. Just assumed that Dean would forgive him and in the past he had. His brother had forgiven him all manner of things, even leaving for Stanford and his normal life. But this time it was different. Sam had broken Dean's trust, his love and in a weird sort of way he even understood why Dean couldn't forgive him. Despite knowing that Dean may never forgive him Sam still desperately craved a second chance, a second chance to prove to Dean that he loved him, had always loved him and would always love him. Sam knew that if he was lucky enough to be given a second chance that he would spend the rest of his life proving his love to Dean, proving that his brother's trust in him wasn't misplaced. Dean, of all men in the world, deserved love. Deserved to be loved and Sam hoped with all his heart that his brother would some day allow him to be the one to love Dean forever. In his darkest moments, it was this hope that kept Sam going on with his life.

Sam loved Dean. It was that simple but that complicated at the same time. Dean's love wasn't brash, gaudy, oppressive or demanding. At first Sam had been surprised expecting a different kind of love from his self-assured and cocky brother. Dean's love was a subtle all surrounding love, full of gentleness and warmth, that caressed him and made him feel safe and secure. Sam closed his eyes letting thoughts of Dean wash over him. He could almost feel Dean all around him, almost feel his featherlike touches all over his skin. Sam shivered. Dean was his whole world and it had taken his brother leaving for Sam to realise it. It was official. Sam Winchester was nothing without Dean Winchester and his love.

Sam snapped his eyes open as a sharp pain blossomed through his belly. He leant forwards slightly hugging himself trying to breathe through the sharp pain. He moaned softly as the pain gradually subsided. Sam straightened and took a few minutes to calm himself breathing deeply. He continued to keep one arm across his stomach as he turned and lurched across the room. Another pain rose up within him and Sam couldn't help the panic that rushed through his body. "No. No. No. It's too early," Sam whispered over and over to himself as he staggered towards the coffee table and his cell phone. He groaned seizing the couch arm as he spread his legs slightly. Sam groaned again as the pain hit him in waves flowing through his whole body. The pains were intensifying, the niggling pains he had been experiencing were obviously a warning, and Sam could no longer ignore the simple fact. He was in labour and probably had been for a while. Sam's fingers dug into the fabric of the couch arm as he fought to breathe through what was obviously a contraction. Minutes later the pain released him and Sam grabbed for his cell phone, one arm still hugged across his belly. Shaky fingers dialled. "Pick up. Pick up. Please be there," he chanted to himself. Relief flooded through his body as his call was finally answered. "Bobby," Sam croaked into the cell phone. "I... I need some help." 

  
**Three days later.............**

Sam pressed a hand against the glass carefully inching his chair closer. He winced at the movement, still slightly sore, but he couldn't help the ripple of excitement that coursed through his body. Today was the day. The day when he finally held his tiny newborn son in his arms. Alex James Winchester was fast asleep completely unaware of the importance of the day and his father's excitement. His tiny legs moved slightly and Sam could see his hands making fists as he dreamed.

Sam gazed down at his son, three days old but born just over five weeks early. Bobby had turned up half an hour after his frantic telephone call and driven him straight to the hospital. An hour later Sam was in the delivery room in labour despite the doctor's best efforts to stop it. Stress related and high blood pressure, Sam had vaguely remembered the doctor telling him. He had been terrified, too terrified to speak or acknowledge the medical staff surrounding him. Through a haze of pain and terror Sam had even reached out. Reached out for something or someone but the someone he desperately wanted wasn't there. He was alone and rightly so, Sam had thought to himself, even refusing Bobby's offer to be with him during the labour.

Sam still felt guilty, felt responsible that his son had to fight to live in his first few days. All through the sixteen hour labour, the haze of pain and reassurances from the medical staff, Sam had been panicking terrified that his baby was going to die but Alex had proved him wrong. Proved that he had inherited the stubborn Winchester streak. The tiny baby had even protested loudly, giving a long screaming wail, as exhausted Sam had finally pushed him from his body. Sam hadn't been allowed to hold his baby following the birth as Alex had been immediately whisked away to the special baby care unit for round the clock care, a precaution the doctor had told him. He had seen his child an hour later when one of the nurses had wheeled him into the baby unit. Despite all the medical equipment surrounding Alex, it had been love at first sight for Sam but he had been frustrated and upset that he hadn't been allowed to touch his child. Sam had been permitted to stay at Alex's side until he finally succumbed to the exhaustion of his labour, two hours later.

Sam looked down at his tiny son again feeling a burst of love deep inside. It washed over him making him feel that his life was worth all the pain and heartache of the last few months. At just over three and half pounds in weight, his small body was pink, still wrinkled and covered with wires and tubes but Sam didn't care. Alex was the most beautiful baby he had ever seen and Sam was relieved to see that the child seemingly hadn't inherited any looks from Grady Mallory. Even at three days old and tiny, Alex definitely had the Winchester look about him. 

The tiny baby had been improving, getting stronger, every day since his birth and some of the wires and tubes had been removed the previous morning with the promise from the paediatrician that Sam could finally hold him today. Finally take his son from the incubator that was keeping him warm and alive, and hold him in his arms. Sam pressed his fingers against the glass again silently willing the time to go quicker. As he gazed down at his son curling his fingers against the glass, Sam wondered how he could have ever thought about getting rid of the small life laying so innocent and trusting in the incubator. Despite his happiness, Sam's guilt and self-loathing went up a notch that he had ever considered it. 

Sam was jolted out of his musings by one of the nurses moving to his side. "You ready Sam?" she asked nodding at the incubator. 

Sam bit at his lip. "Are you sure he'll be OK.... you know out here," he asked waving his hand around the room absently. Even though he was desperate to hold his son, Sam was still worried not wanting his baby to suffer or be ill because he selfishly wanted to hold him. 

The nurse, Lizzie, smiled. "Don't worry. Of course he'll be fine. Babies, even tiny ones like this little heartbreaker, are stronger than they look," she smiled at Sam. "And the doctor is very pleased with this young man," Lizzie said as she fiddled with the incubator. "I imagine he'll be transferred to the nursery in a couple of days if he keeps doing as well as he is," Lizzie continued to assure as she gently lifted the small baby out of his incubator. 

Sam squirmed hardly able to contain his excitement as he watched the nurse lift his son out into the world. "Careful of the wires," the nurse warned as she lay the child in Sam's arms. 

Sam looked up at the nurse and nodded before looking down at his son again. Sam felt another burst of love as Alex shifted in his arms. He was so tiny but so perfect in every way. Sam couldn't help himself - he counted fingers and toes as he carefully studied every inch of the small body marvelling at the tiny miracle that was his son. Although small and light in weight, Alex felt warm and vital in his arms. Sam looked up at the nurse again. "He's so beautiful," he croaked. Lizzie smiled at him. Sam smiled back. "Guess they all say that," Sam said softly looking back at his child. 

"I've heard it a few times before," Lizzie laughed softly. "You can touch him. He won't break," she assured. 

Sam reached down careful of the wires still attached to the tiny body and cautiously ran a finger gently down Alex's face. The baby wriggled and slowly opened his eyes looking upwards with a small yawn. Sam chuckled. "Hey," he said softly offering his son a finger. Alex curled his small fist around the finger wriggling in Sam's hold again. Alex yawned again, kicking his tiny legs against Sam's arms. Sam looked up at Lizzie and smiled again. 

"I'll leave you two alone to get acquainted," Lizzie said moving away leaving Sam and his son together. 

  
**Two days later...........**

Sam ran along the corridor, his heart thumping in his chest and his breath coming in short rapid pants. His feet pounded the hard cool tiles as he ran desperately searching for a pay phone. Sam's vision was blurry, blinded by the tears he couldn't stop from running unchecked down his face. He ignored the cries of protest as he barged past person after person searching for a pay phone that wasn't out of order or being used by someone else. 

Sam didn't know how long he had been running, didn't really know what part of the hospital he was in. Everything looked the same. Terror and fear drove him on and he just kept running up and down the corridors until he finally found a telephone that wasn't out of order or had someone already using it. Sam stood for a moment, bent slightly his hands on his knees as he tried to calm his ragged breathing. His heart still pounded and his terror was threatening to overwhelm him. Straightening up Sam scrabbled in his pockets for loose change. His fingers curled around the cool metallic feel of the coins and with a trembling hand he shoved the money into the slot not really noticing how much he had fed into the machine. Sweaty, damp and shaky fingers jabbed the familiar numbers. "No. No. No," Sam screamed in his head as he heard the answering machine whirr into life. "Please," he wailed as the machine finished playing its message. "Bobby. It's ..... it's Sam. Please... you gotta come. Alex is ..... is sick," he sobbed out.  "And they .... they won't let me see him... please..... and no-one will tell me what's happening. What if he.... what if he...," Sam couldn't force the words out, couldn't bring himself to say the words. "Please Bobby," he sobbed as he hung the telephone up. Sam had never felt so truly lost and alone before. 

Sam looked around him trying to work out where he was. The panic inside him was rising up, consuming him. Sam was terrified. He couldn't think and didn't know what to do. Tears continued to run down his face unchecked and he swiped at them absently. Not knowing what else to do, Sam slowly slipped down the wall. He lay his head on his knees, wrapped his arms around his legs and let the despair he felt overpower him. "I deserve this," Sam whispered to himself over and over. He'd lost Dean and now he was going to lose Alex. "I'm being punished.... and I deserve this. It's my fault," Sam chanted silently as he rocked back and forth. 

  

**To be continued...........**

  



	6. Autumn Gold

  
Author's notes: Last two chapters. Enjoy.  


* * *

**Chapter Six: Autumn Gold**

**Dean**

  
Dean was hiding. From himself. From Bobby. From the world. He jammed himself into the old fashioned alcove-window, knees bent with his arms wrapped around his legs and his back against the narrow wall of the tiny alcove. Dean leaned his head up against the cool glass of the grubby window staring out across Bobby's yard, his eyes wandering restlessly over the scrap yard.

Summer had faded into the reds and golds of autumn and Bobby's yard, like every other yard, had accumulated hundreds of leaves of all shapes and sizes. Blown and ripped from the surrounding trees by the cruel but mellow autumn breezes they lay like a rust and gold coloured carpet covering the ground as well as the wrecks of the trucks and cars that littered the yard. Dean watched fascinated as the unrelenting wind whipped at the leaves blowing them up into the air. The golden carpet rippled and undulated against the incessant gusts of wind, always shifting and moving. Dean transferred his gaze towards the trees at the back of Bobby's yard, still standing tall and proud but stripped of their foliage. Naked to the elements and robbed of their beauty, their very essence, by nature itself. Dean snorted to himself cursing himself for his foolishness not able to believe that he was actually attempting to compare his life to that of a tree, but he couldn't help feeling stripped and naked, just like the sad-looking trees. Stripped of his love, his trust but not by nature, by Sam and his betrayal. He dismissed the thoughts from his head angrily and shifted awkwardly in the confined space. Dean lifted one hand tracing a path with his finger down the dirty glass, having the sudden childish urge to write his name in the grime. Dean Winchester was here. Dean Winchester was somewhere. 

Dean snorted again. He had left the small town that had been his home for a month after his run-in with Matthew in the diner. The small town had lost its appeal. He couldn't hide, couldn't be anonymous any more. He had given Faith his notice after he had calmed himself down. Dean had felt really bad about letting her down after she had been so kind to him, but he had a suspicion that she somehow understood. Faith had just kissed him and wished him luck saying that she hoped he found what he was looking for, that he deserved it. Dean had then run to the motel, paid his bill, packed his stuff and headed the Impala towards Bobby's house. And Sam, the small voice in his head kept reminding him. 

Dean had arrived back at Bobby's house three days ago after four long days on the road. Four days on the road with only his own thoughts for company giving Dean enough time to talk himself out of confronting and talking to Sam. He had managed to convince himself that his brother had moved on with his life, had may be even made a new life with his child's father. He had allowed all his insecurities and fears to overwhelm the determination he had felt back at the diner. 

Dean was tired and felt battered and bruised. He knew that part of his exhaustion was due to him not stopping at motels for the night, instead he had slept for a couple of hours in the Impala before continuing his journey. His appetite was still non-existent so Dean hadn't bothered with diners and had spent the four days on the road just eating a snack here and there, when the mood took him, and drinking coffee bought at various gas stations along the way. It wasn't as if he was in a hurry to get back to Bobby's house, Dean just wanted to be somewhere familiar, somewhere safe. Somewhere near Sam his annoying little voice kept telling him. 

Dean scrubbed a hand across his face as he closed his eyes and let his mind wander for a moment. As quickly as he had closed them, Dean snapped his eyes open, shivering slightly, as the memory of the events of his final day at the diner filled his mind. "Get a grip Winchester," he cursed himself as he lay his head on his knees trying to push the thoughts of Matthew and what had nearly transpired out of his head. He didn't really know what had happened, how he had got himself into a potentially dangerous situation and ended up with the bruises to prove how stupid and pathetic he had been. His life was a mess, seemingly taking on an existence all of its own, and Dean just wanted to stop the dizzying carousel ride that had become his life over the last few months. He just wanted to jump off, run away and hide. But Dean had already tried that and had been lonely and miserable. It had taken him being attacked by a man that a few months ago the real Dean Winchester would have dropped with one punch and cocky comment to finally get his head out of his ass and decide that he had run enough. It was time to face up to things and get his life back. Face up to his life and what he wanted from it. Dean loved Sam. Despite Sam cheating on him, his love for Sam was the only constant, the only thing that Dean was definitely sure of, it was everything else that was confused and muddled. But deep down Dean could feel the determination stirring again, could feel himself pushing away the insecurities and fears that he had talked himself into during the four days on the road.

Dean knew that he was still the strong, capable and confident person he had always been but over the last few months he had allowed himself to turn into a different person, a stranger to himself, someone he didn't recognise. He found himself staring into the mirror every morning desperately trying to work out who the stranger was staring back at him. The stranger with the pale gaunt face and lifeless green eyes. He needed to find Dean Winchester again. Needed to recognise himself when he looked in the mirror. Needed to live again and in order to do that simple thing, Dean needed answers to the questions he had been asking himself for months. Secretly he knew that Sam was an answer to one of his questions but his fears and uncertainties were keeping him from asking.

Dean shivered again. The pain and hurt had dulled slightly and Dean wondered if it was because he had forgiven Sam or whether he had just gotten used to carrying all the pain around with him every day. When he had arrived back at Bobby's, his friend had gently told him that Sam had delivered his son early, that they were both still in the hospital. It was the last thing that Dean had wanted to hear and he had tried so hard to remain nonchalant at the news but hadn't been able to look Bobby in the eyes. He had just shrugged his shoulders but deep inside the knowledge stung, hurting him all over again. Bobby had even tried to persuade him to visit but Dean had angrily refused and locked himself away in his room. Bobby had told him at dinner yesterday that Sam had been discharged from the hospital but his son was being kept in the baby unit as a precaution because he was so small. Dean had stubbornly ignored Bobby instead concentrating on pushing his meal around his plate, his appetite gone. 

He was so confused. Sam's new son complicated everything again in his mind. Dean loved Sam but he was afraid. Afraid that Sam would hurt him again and Dean really didn't know if he could ever trust his brother again. He had even admitted to himself that he was a little bit afraid that now Sam had a son, there would be no place for him in his brother's life. It sounded so selfish to his ears but Dean couldn't help himself and the feelings that insisted on swirling around inside him. Deep down he was also afraid that may be Sam would make a life for himself with the father of his child even though Bobby had told him that there was no chance of that ever happening. Thoughts spun around his head making him feel sick and dizzy. Dean knew that he was doomed. His heart would always belong to Sam. He had always known it, but whether he could ever give his heart and his love over to his brother's care again was a completely different matter. 

Dean sighed turning his head to back to gazing over the scrap yard. The bright autumn sun was watery but it still made the wrecked and abandoned cars and trucks shine in its light. The sunlight bounced off the mangled and rust-covered metal but somehow it made them look loved and cherished. Dean gave a small smile - this was Bobby's playground. The thought made him frown and Dean closed his eyes still able to visualise the garden he had planned out in his head, their childrens' playground. Easy-to-care-for flowers and shrubs were going to fill the borders because both Sam and himself hadn't got a clue about plants or flowers so Dean had decided that easy was the best option for them. Outside the french windows, Dean had planned to build a wooden decking area, with a barbecue, making it somewhere for him and Sam to sit and watch their children playing. Dean squeezed his eyes closed even tighter, fighting against the threatened tears, as the thought of their children made his stomach clench with an ache of longing. Dean could almost see it - in the shady corner of the garden, a brightly coloured hand-made play centre complete with swings, a sandpit, slide, climbing frame and a see-saw for their children. He'd spent hours dreaming about it and had even drawn up rough sketches and plans. Sam had teased him but Dean hadn't cared - this was for their children, their family. But it was all gone now. His dreams. Sam. His family. Dean desperately wanted to believe that all his dreams weren't lost and destroyed, that they were still within his reach. He just had to believe again and reach out. 

Dean bit at his lips as the tears he was holding back threatened to fall. A sound to his left-hand side startled him out of his musings. Dean snapped his eyes open turning to stare at Bobby. 

"So this is where you're hiding," Bobby said softly cocking his head to one side. 

Dean scowled. "Not hiding," he protested sulkily knowing that Bobby probably wouldn't believe him.

Dean was right, almost smiling at the disbelieving look on his friend's face. Bobby schooled his features as he nodded his head slowly. "OK," he said, a small smile gracing his lips. "If you say so."

"I do," Dean snapped childishly. He turned his head and stared out of the window again, ignoring Bobby, vainly hoping that his friend would leave him alone, leave him to his misery. Dean sensed that Bobby hadn't moved and he cursed his bad luck for having such a stubborn friend. Such a good friend, he secretly thought to himself. 

"You wanna go see Sam and his son?" Bobby asked instead. "I think Sam could do with a friend right about now." 

"No," Dean snapped his eyes blazing with uncontrolled anger. He could feel the hurt and confusion bubbling up inside him again. "He's got you.... he doesn't need me any more." Dean knew he was being unreasonable and unfair, even childish, knowing his words weren't true but he couldn't help himself - he still hurt, still felt betrayed. Dean wondered idly if the feelings would ever leave him. 

"Dean," Bobby sighed frustrated as Dean glared at him again. Bobby rolled his eyes as Dean turned away from him again to stare out of the window. Dean and Sam Winchester were two of the most stubborn young men he had ever met. He loved them both but at the moment Bobby could quite happily strangle the both of them with his bare hands. He sighed again feeling every year of his age - between them the Winchester brothers were slowly ageing him.

Bobby had been surprised when Dean had turned up on his door step two days ago asking if he could stay. Bobby hadn't hesitated pulling Dean through the doorway and into a hug that Dean had struggled against. Bobby had immediately felt a sense of relief and let himself hope that may be Dean and Sam could work out their relationship somehow, but three days later Dean was still refusing to visit or speak to Sam. Bobby hadn't told Sam that Dean was back deciding that the younger Winchester had enough on his mind at the moment. He felt slightly guilty but convinced himself that he was just waiting for the right moment, if it ever came.

Bobby cocked his head to one side taking a moment to study Dean. Take a good look at his friend. Dean was deathly pale, his usually expressive eyes dull and lifeless and he had definitely lost weight, his jeans hanging low on his hips. His appetite appeared to have deserted him, he was uncharacteristically quiet and withdrawn and he was sporting a colourful array of bruises on his face and up both arms. Bobby, so far, had resisted the temptation to ask where the bruises had come from. Dean looked battered and bruised and all Bobby wanted to do was hug the younger man and tell him that everything would be OK but knew that displays of affection wouldn't be welcomed and most likely would earn him a punch in the face. 

Bobby had promised himself that he would never interfere but it was just so frustrating. Even if they didn't know it themselves, Sam and Dean belonged together, were useless and miserable apart. Bobby didn't kid himself knowing that there was a lot of healing to be done, on both sides. Sam had spent months torturing himself for his mistake and he could see from taking one look at Dean that he had made himself sick over the past few months. Despite the terrible hurtful mistake that Sam had made and despite the pain and anger Dean felt, Bobby hung onto the hope that they would get their happy ending. If anyone deserved a happy ending, it was Sam and Dean Winchester. So he had decided to bide his time and wait. Wait for the right moment to give both boys a hard push in the right direction. Towards each other and their happy ending. 

Bobby was jolted out of his thoughts by Dean shifting. He watched silently as Dean swung his legs down from out of the alcove. The younger man stretched slightly. "You still here?" Dean said with a slight edge in his tone of voice. 

"Yep," Bobby answered with a smirk. "Thought I would haunt your ass for a little bit," he said evenly. "See if I could get you to change your mind about visiting with Sam and his son." 

"Outta luck there," Dean scowled as he pulled himself to his feet. He swayed slightly and leant against the wall hoping that Bobby hadn't noticed. 

Bobby ignored Dean's stagger but made a mental note to bring it up later. "What?" Bobby cocked his head to one side deciding to take a chance. "Afraid you still love him?" he challenged. Dean narrowed his eyes at his friend but chose to remain silent. "Thought so," Bobby couldn't help smirking as he watched a hundred different emotions flash through the green eyes glaring at him. Bobby folded his arms and waited for the explosion that he sensed would come secretly pleased that, after three days of stubborn silence, he had finally gotten a reaction from the hard-headed younger man. 

Dean could feel his temper rising. "You don't know anything," he said angrily. 

"I know you're both hurting," Bobby replied firmly. "And someone has to make the first move. Get this damn mess sorted out one way or the other so you both can get on with your lives." He shrugged his shoulders. "I figure it might as well be you." Bobby knew he was being unfair to Dean but argued with himself that it was for the younger man's own good and it was Sam's turn next, Bobby had also decided. In his head, Bobby had his fingers crossed hoping that he could keep the brothers' friendship, that he didn't push them both out of his life. Their friendship was important to him. 

"Why does it always have to be me?" Dean snapped. "Sam took everything away from me. I loved him so much ....would have done anything for him. But he threw it all back in my face. Screwed some random dude because he was angry at me," he shouted. "Let Sam sort stuff out for a change," he choked out. 

"He tried but you ran away," Bobby accused softly. "And don't you think that I'm letting that young man off the hook either. Him and me got a serious talk coming up real soon." 

Dean glared angrily, almost feeling sorry for Sam knowing that Bobby meant every word. He sighed deeply. "I didn't know what else to do," Dean finally admitted. "I couldn't stay. I just couldn't." 

"Dean," Bobby started to say. 

"No," Dean put his hands up stopping Bobby mid-sentence. "I thought I could forgive him but," he threw his hands up in the air. "Now I don't know. Hell. I don't even know who I am any more. So don't ask me to forgive him just like that," he snapped the fingers of one hand. 

Bobby could hear the defeat in Dean's voice and his heart went out to the younger man. "Of course you know who you are," Bobby assured. 

Dean snorted. "Do I?" he questioned bitterly. 

"Of course," Bobby said firmly. "You're just off your game at the moment." 

Dean snorted again. "You wanna know where I got these bruises?" he waved at his face and arms. "I nearly got ..... got myself r-r-raped," he managed to force out. "Because I'd forgotten who I was. I've lost myself and I don't know how to find myself again." Dean turned away from Bobby not able to bring himself to look at the horrified look on his friend's face. He bit at his lips forcing the tears away. 

Bobby took a step forwards shocked at the thought of Dean being attacked. He didn't know what to say, what to do. Bobby went to open his mouth to offer some kind of comfort, but was stopped mid-sentence by the sound of the telephone echoing into the silence surrounding them. Bobby cursed under his breath glaring over his shoulder towards the hallway. He turned back to Dean. "The machine will pick up," he said firmly.

The machine whirred out its curt Bobby-like message. Dean looked up glaring at Bobby again. He didn't want to talk about his encounter with Matthew but before he could get a word of protest out of his mouth, he heard a familiar voice. Sam. He sounded frightened and Dean could hear the rising panic in his brother's voice. "Bobby. It's ..... it's Sam. Please... you gotta come. Alex is ..... is sick. And they .... they won't let me see him... please..... and no-one will tell me what's happening. What if he.... what if he... Please Bobby."

Half way through the frantic message Bobby turned and ran into the hallway. He snatched up the telephone just as Sam hung up. "Damn," he cursed looking over his shoulder at Dean. "I'm going to the hospital... you coming?" he asked grabbing his truck keys from the table. 

Dean hesitated biting at his lips. He didn't know what to do. Sam sounded so terrified but Dean was afraid. Afraid of seeing Sam, of being close to his brother again. "I don't..... I can't," he stammered half turning away from Bobby. He wasn't ready to see Sam. The sound of his brother's panicked voice echoed in his head and his mind insisted on playing the message over and over. Dean closed his eyes trying to push the words away. 

"Don't be such a stubborn asshole," Bobby yelled frustrated. 

Dean opened his eyes turning back towards Bobby. "I didn't ask for this," he shouted angrily. "I can't do this. Can't be there for him. I spent my whole life being there for him... and where did that get me? What did that ever get me?" Dean clenched and unclenched his fists as the anger and hurt rose up within him threatening to overwhelm him again. 

"Then why did you come back?" Bobby retorted. "To torture yourself some more. Or torture Sam. Hell yeah he made a mistake..... a damn big one. One that hurt you. I know that. I understand that you're hurt. But he hurt himself too," Bobby sighed. 

"I... I ....," Dean started to say. He could feel his anger drain out of him at Bobby's words. He knew that his friend was right but it still hurt. Sam's betrayal still hurt, would probably always hurt. 

Bobby put his hand up. "He needs you Dean. He needs his brother. OK?" he said trying to calm himself. "Just his brother. Nothing else. Just you. His brother. OK?" Bobby started towards the door hoping that Dean would follow him. 

Dean thought for a moment before taking a deep calming breath. It was time to get his life back. Time to put the past where it belonged, in the past. It was time to find Dean Winchester again. "OK," Dean gave a sharp determined nod as he followed Bobby out of the door grabbing his jacket from the coat hook. 

  
  
**Sam**

Sam didn't know how long he had been sitting under the pay phone his arms wrapped around his legs, head laying on his knees. Time had no meaning for him now. He didn't care. He was alone not even knowing if Bobby had gotten his message. Alex was sick, probably dying and it was all his fault. Dean had run away, probably hated him and it was all his fault. Apart from Bobby, his brother and his son were the two most important people in his life. He loved them more than anything, more than life itself and he was losing them both. He had already lost Dean through his selfish stupidity, he was about to lose Alex and Sam hated himself. The self loathing rose up choking him with its venom as he quietly sobbed. 

Sam continued to rock back and forth, lost in his anguish. Vaguely he could sense people around him, smell them, hear their quiet murmurs, hear their apologies as they brushed against him. No-one stopped. They all moved quickly past him as though they were too frightened to talk to him, as if they thought he was some sort of madman. Someone had tried to ask if he was alright but Sam had turned away from their touch and soft concerned voice ignoring their attempts to talk to him. After a few moments, the person had given up with a long sigh leaving Sam alone again. "I'm being punished. I deserve this. It's my fault," Sam chanted again over and over in his head as he surrendered to his misery. 

Time crawled for Sam as he rocked, slowly sinking in the quick sand that was his self-recrimination and guilt. He sniffed as his tears eventually stopped and he let them dry on his face. Sam sensed movement to his side as someone slipped down the wall next to him and guessed that somebody had called security to report the madman sitting in the hospital corridor. He snorted to himself resolving to ignore this person as well in the hope they would leave him alone. Sam buried his head against his knees wrapping his arms tighter around his legs trying to give off a defensive and 'go away and leave me alone' aura. The person didn't seem to be getting the message and Sam shifted slightly to the right, away from the warm body pressing against his side. He frowned to himself confused. His head and mind felt muddled, full of swirling emotions he couldn't seem to control but he had the weird feeling he was safe. Sam fought through the fog in his brain trying to make sense of the strong feelings of familiarity. The smell of warm leather, the hint of aftershave and hair gel, and the press of a body, all angles and muscles. His mind cleared and Sam snapped his eyes open. He tilted his head upwards glancing sideways and came face to face with his brother. 

"Hey Sammy," Dean whispered softly. Dean hadn't known what to say or do and had felt awkward and uneasy in the face of his brother's obvious distress. His earlier determination had wavered slightly so he had just slid down the wall next to his brother and waited. When Sam had finally looked across at him they had been the first words out of his mouth. The first words he had spoken to his brother in over four months and they sounded stupid and inadequate to his ears. So much had changed for them both over the months but somehow the two words said everything that Dean was feeling at the moment and he had a hunch that Sam would get their meaning. Dean could almost feel the electric tension in the air surrounding them both like a thick blanket and he took a deep breath to calm himself. His stomach was doing cartwheels, making him feel sick, and Dean couldn't manage to push down the terror he felt and was desperately resisting the urge to run and hide. His heart thudded in his chest and his mouth was dry but Dean managed to shoot his brother a small crooked smile, a shadow of his usual smiles, but a smile nonetheless. 

"Dean," Sam choked. Sam couldn't believe his eyes. Dean was here at his side, something he had dreamed and craved for over four months. And his brother was talking to him. So far, it was only two words but they meant and said everything to Sam. "He called me Sammy," he thought to himself as he felt the tears welling in his eyes again. He swiped at them angrily blinking rapidly as he continued to stare at Dean. "Are you real?" Sam asked knowing it was a stupid question but he had to know, to make sure he wasn't imagining his brother. 

Dean couldn't help the chuckle that escaped despite the tension that seemed to circle around them both. "Yeah Sammy," he assured his brother. "My ass is real." 

"Dean," Sam repeated his tone still slightly unbelieving. He shifted closer and buried his head against Dean's shoulder, one hand clutching desperately at his brother's shirt, tangling his fist in the material, not letting go. "I missed you," Sam breathed. 

"I missed you too," Dean admitted quietly. "I missed you too." He still hadn't really touched Sam himself, couldn't bring himself to take that last step even though his whole body was screaming for the contact. Dean was afraid. He had spent months pushing his love and trust down deep and he honestly didn't know if he would ever find them again. Sam looked tired and drained, with dark circles around his eyes, and Dean supposed that it had something to do with giving birth a few days ago as well as the worry over his newborn son. 

"It's ...it's all my fault... my fault," Sam sobbed against Dean's shoulder. "Alex is sick.... what if he's dying? And... and I hurt you so bad," he cried. "You didn't deserve.... I don't.... don't deserve you," he babbled. "And Alex doesn't deserve.... any of this." 

Despite his inner fears, Dean couldn't bear seeing Sam so upset. He nervously reached a hand out. He flexed his fingers biting at his lip. "Sssshhh," Dean soothed finally putting his arm around his brother pulling a trembling Sam closer. "It's OK," he stroked his hand through Sam's hair. "Sssshhhh," Dean repeated. 

"It's all my fault," Sam mumbled against Dean's shoulder. "I'm.... I'm being punished for hurting you.. cheating on you.... I d-d-d-deserve every-everything I get... I deserve all the bad stuff but Alex... Alex is just a-a little baby," Sam stuttered. "It hurts so bad." 

"I know Sammy," Dean soothed as he continued to run his hand through Sam's hair in comfort. "It's gonna be OK," he whispered. Sam's body heat soaked into his own searing him with its warmth, its familiarity. It felt safe. It felt secure. It felt like home. Dean Winchester was home. 


	7. Over the Rainbow

  
Author's notes: Enjoy  


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**Chapter Seven:  Over the Rainbow**

**An hour and a half later......**

Dean leaned against the glass watching Sam with his small son. Dean could see that the baby was still attached to a myriad of wires and tubes but Sam had been allowed to remove the child from the incubator and cradle him in his arms. A nurse hovered close by surreptitiously monitoring the visit and keeping an eye on the array of blinking machines that surrounded the now empty incubator. Dean could see Sam's mouth moving as he obviously whispered soothing words to the sleeping child. He smiled at the sight of Sam with his son.

As he watched Sam run a finger gently down the child's tiny face, Dean suddenly felt an irrational stab of jealously and turned away from the viewing window. The small baby wrapped in Sam's arms should have been their child and Dean couldn't help the wave of sadness that washed over him and his stomach clenched with the ache of longing. He determinedly pushed away the small part of him that still hated Sam for his betrayal. Dean slumped down in one of over-stuffed chairs in the small waiting room and stared up at the ceiling lost in his own thoughts. 

It had taken him over half an hour to calm Sam down and persuade him up off the floor. He had then hauled him into the nearest bathroom making him splash water on his reddened and tear stained face. Once satisfied that Sam didn't look too much like road kill, Dean had taken Sam firmly by one hand and half-dragged his reluctant brother along the impersonal hospital corridors and up three floors back to the baby unit. Along the way, Dean kept turning back towards Sam giving him the occasional reassuring smile. Sam rewarded him with small smiles of his own although Dean could clearly see the fear and panic reflected in his brother's pale eyes. He tightened his grip of Sam's hand trying to relay his reassurance by touch. 

Dean didn't know how his relationship with Sam stood, didn't know what was going to happen, wasn't even sure he still wanted a loving or sexual relationship with Sam but for the first time in months, a strong determination filled him as he walked through the corridors, Sam in tow. The feeling throbbed through his body making him feel strong and resolute, echoes of the real Dean Winchester slowly surfacing through his pain and confusion. At the same time, the renewed energy distracted him from thoughts of Sam's small son. Sam's child was another unknown that he didn't feel able to deal with at the moment so Dean pushed all thoughts and feelings deep down inside him. He would deal with them later, much later, even though his little voice accused him of being a coward. 

Bobby had met them at the doors to the baby unit, a relieved look on his face. He had hustled them both over to the couches in the waiting room, making them sit down next to each other. Before Bobby could say anything, Alex's paediatrician had joined them. Sam had flinched and visibly straightened up, the fear returning full force to his expression and his hand gripping Dean's tightly. Dean sensed that Sam was torn between running and staying so he squeezed his hand trying to reassure his brother again through touch. His protective instincts kicked in automatically and Dean had narrowed his eyes at the doctor, taking a moment to study him carefully - his body language, his expression - and decided that the news was probably going to be good and he had squeezed Sam's hand again. Not realising, until that moment, how tense he had been himself Dean took a deep breath and forced his whole body into his usual lazy and untidy slouch hoping that his more relaxed poise would migrate to Sam and help to calm him. 

Making sure that he had all their attention, the doctor had then proceeded to explain the situation. Alex had apparently developed a chest infection that had been causing some minor breathing problems, a common occurrence in premature babies the doctor had quickly assured Sam. Sam had visibly relaxed but his grip of Dean's hand remained firm. The doctor had then smiled broadly informing them that Alex appeared to be responding positively and rapidly to the intravenous antibiotic treatment but that the infection would delay his transfer to a normal ward for a few days. Alex would be staying in the baby care unit, as a precaution, for the time being. At the direct and slightly angry question from Bobby, the doctor had blushed slightly but had profusely apologised for his staffs' cold and unsympathetic behaviour towards Sam saying that they hadn't meant to panic or upset him in any way but at the time their priority had been treating Alex. Sam had nodded in understanding but remained silent. The doctor had finished up his explanation telling Sam that he would be able to visit and sit with his son. That had been over forty-five minutes ago. 

Dean scrubbed a hand over his face. He was tired and didn't really know why he was still at the hospital. For Sam his annoying little voice kept telling him over and over. Bobby had disappeared on a coffee and sandwich run so he was alone with his thoughts. They swirled around his head making Dean feel dizzy and sick. He was confused all over again and didn't know what to do. He desperately wanted to be the real Dean Winchester again, had felt a stirring of his old self when he had been dragging Sam down the hospital corridors. Dean sighed to himself - big brother he could do, it came naturally to him as he had been doing it all his life. But lover and life partner, he was less sure of. Dean knew Sam needed him and if he was truthful he needed Sam. He shook his head feeling even more confused than ever. Lover or brother - Dean knew that he had to choose but the choice wasn't as easy as it sounded. His ragged emotions were in danger of overwhelming him all over again, and Dean put it down to being so close to Sam again. He wanted to be close to Sam but it hurt. Dean scrubbed his hand over his face again suddenly feeling even more weary, drained and battered. 

Dean was startled out of his reverie by Sam standing in front of him. He cocked his head to one side as his eyes looked Sam up and down. He had expected some sort of change but Sam was still the same person he had always been, the same person that Dean still loved. Still tall and gangly with an untidy mop of hair framing his sharp angular face. His eyes were still red and puffy from crying and he looked tired, the dark circles under his eyes accentuated his weariness but there was still a hint of the old Sam reflected in his pale eyes. He had obviously lost a lot of his pregnancy weight and Dean guessed that Sam would be back to his normal weight in no time. "Hey," he said giving Sam a small smile. 

"The nurses say Alex is doing OK," Sam beamed happily. "Must be those stubborn-assed Winchester genes." 

Dean gave Sam a small wan smile. "That's really good Sammy," he agreed pleased that the tiny baby was doing OK and if he was honest with himself, Dean was also pleased to see Sam smiling and relaxed. 

"Do you wanna come in with me?" Sam asked shifting nervously from foot to foot. "And meet him? I asked and the nurse said it would be OK." 

Dean sighed. He had been expecting the question. "No Sammy," he said softly. "I don't think... you know that I can. I want to... for you.... but..... but I just can't. OK?" Dean glanced sideways, not able to look at Sam but not missing the look of disappointment that flashed across his brother's face. Dean felt immediately guilty but knew that he wouldn't be able to control his battered emotions and he really didn't think he could face meeting Sam's son just yet. 

Sam's face fell not able to contain his disappointment at Dean's answer. He knew he was being selfish again and had half-expected Dean's answer, but a little part of him had hoped that his brother would agree to meet Alex. "OK," he replied softly. "I understand," he forced himself to say. 

"Do you?" Dean couldn't help asking raising an eyebrow at his brother. He jumped to his feet and started to pace up and down. Dean could feel all his anger, pain and hurt re-surfacing once again. Dean clenched his fists in a desperate attempt to control himself as he really didn't want to argue with Sam. He wanted to run, to hide, to get himself under control. 

"I.... I," Sam stuttered blushing bright red. He knew Dean better than anyone in the whole world, had sensed that his brother was just about holding onto to his emotions and probably his temper. Sam silently cursed his stupidity. He had done it again, taken it for granted that Dean would do what he asked, what he wanted. And after he had promised himself that he would never ever take his brother for granted again, that he would spend his life putting things right, if only Dean would give him a second chance. "I'm sorry Dean," Sam said softly, apologetic. "I didn't mean to... well you know.. hurt you." 

Dean stopped in front of Sam and glared. His anger pulsed through his body but suddenly, as though a switch had been flicked, Dean felt it drain out of him. He sighed wearily. "I know Sammy," he murmured not able to keep the defeat out of his tone. "I know you didn't." 

Sam wanted to reach out and hold his brother but he was afraid that his advances would be rejected and he didn't know if he would be able to bear that. Dean looked so defeated and beaten. Sam took the moment of silence between them to take a good hard look at his brother. He hadn't really before, too lost in his own misery and worry about Alex to really notice anything, even what day it was. But now that Alex was improving he wanted to concentrate his efforts on his brother. What he saw shocked him and Sam knew that he was responsible. His guilt churned in his stomach as he ran his eyes up and down his brother's body. Dean was a pale reflection of his former self. His face was ashen which made his freckles stand out starkly against the pale skin. One eye was blackened and Sam could see healing yellowish bruises on one cheek. Although still well muscled, Dean had obviously dropped at least twenty pounds in weight and Sam noted yet more yellow/black bruises on both arms. He frowned wondering how Dean had come to get the bruises. Dean's clothes hung loosely on him and his green eyes, usually so alive with mischief and humour, were dull and lifeless. He couldn't help himself and Sam's mouth dropped open in horror. He had done this to his brother. To Dean who he loved more than anything in the whole world. His disgust and hate for himself went up a notch and he wrapped his arms around himself. Sam would never forgive himself for hurting Dean. 

Dean shifted uncomfortable with his brother's obvious scrutiny of him. He had hoped that Sam wouldn't notice but knew that he had been fooling himself. He looked like crap, worse than road kill, and Dean could see the look of self-hate in Sam's eyes. Dean could feel his anger bubbling under the surface again, anger at himself, anger at Sam. He folded his arms against his chest, in a defiant motion, and glared at his brother again. "Tell you what Sammy," Dean snapped. "Let's not do this now? " he said turning away from his brother. "I can't do this now."

"Dean please," Sam grabbed for his brother's wrist. He wasn't letting his brother run away from him again. A new determination filled him - he was going to put this right.

"No Sammy," Dean spun around to face his brother again. The sharp movement made him feel sick and dizzy. He suddenly felt really hot and the world decided to tilt annoyingly to one side. Dean blinked trying to focus as he instinctively put a hand out to steady himself but found nothing to hold onto. Dean thought he heard Sam shout his name as his vision went blurry and he felt his legs buckle. He couldn't stop his suddenly unco-operative body and he pitched forwards. Dean vaguely felt arms gently lowering him to the floor as his world went black and he sunk into the relief and quiet of the dark abyss.

"Dean," Sam shouted as he watched the colour drain from Dean's face. He grabbed for his brother as Dean's legs buckled and he pitched forwards. "Oh God," Sam whispered, wincing in pain, as he managed to stop Dean hitting the floor. "I need some help over here," he shouted to the nursing staff as he gently cradled his brother in his arms stroking a hand gently down Dean's flushed face. 

  
**Two hours later.....**

Dean stared up at the ceiling trying desperately to ignore a silent Sam who was sitting in the uncomfortable looking chair at his bedside. Dean sighed in frustration, his brain still slightly fuzzy. He had woken up half an hour ago to find himself in a hospital bed, hooked up to a machine with an annoying beeping sound, an intravenous line stuck into the back of one hand and a blood pressure cuff wrapped around his left arm. Sam had been at his bedside clutching his free hand, a worried look on his face. 

The doctor had arrived a few minutes later and had poked and prodded at him while a still worried looking Sam hovered behind him refusing point blank to leave. A diagnosis of exhaustion and dehydration had finally been given followed by a five minute lecture and stern warning from the doctor to start looking after himself and to start eating properly. The doctor had said that they would like him to stay in the hospital overnight for observation, as a precaution due to his low blood pressure. Dean had been about to protest but the words died on his lips as he got a look at the distraught look on Sam's face so he found himself agreeing to stay in the hospital for the night. Dean cursed himself for being so stupid and vowed to take better care of himself. He still felt sick and dizzy and he had the headache from hell despite the pain killers he had been given. He turned towards Sam. "You OK?" he asked breaking the oppressive silence that was surrounding them. 

Sam snorted, his expression incredulous. "Dude," he said. "You're the one in the hospital bed looking like... like well worse than any ghost we have ever sent to hell. And are you ever gonna tell me where you got those bruises?" Sam pointed at Dean's arms. 

Dean glared at Sam. "You just had a baby," he retorted as though that explained everything. He purposely ignored the question about the bruises, not ready to tell Sam about how he had gotten them. "Shouldn't you be resting or something?" 

Sam narrowed his eyes at Dean deciding to leave the questions about the bruises for the time being, but made a mental note to ask his brother about them again later when he was less defensive. "And you just got up close and personal with the floor," he countered instead, ignoring the inference that he should be resting. Yes he was tired but he would rest later, when both Dean and Alex were sleeping. "You scared the crap outta me." 

"Sorry," Dean whispered contrite. "But I'm fine now," Dean couldn't help giving his customary answer.

Sam rolled his eyes in frustration. "I hate when you do that. I always did. Stubborn bastard," he accused as he glanced towards the window fighting to compose himself. He was not going to lose it in front of Dean. He was going to be strong.

"Sammy," Dean whispered. 

"And for the record," Sam turned back towards Dean. "You're not fine. You look like crap. I've seen better looking road kill." 

"Thanks," Dean rolled his eyes. "I could say the same about you." 

"This is not about me," Sam fixed his brother with his best stubborn stare. "This is about you. And what I have done to you," he put his hand up to stop the protest that he knew was coming. Dean closed his mouth, his protest dying on his lips at the determined look on Sam's face. He sighed as he stared up at the ceiling again. He really didn't want to talk about the stuff between them, but had a sinking feeling that Sam wasn't going to let him off the hook. Dean sighed again reluctantly deciding that now was as good a time as ever. Then may be they could both move on and get on with their lives. 

Sam took Dean's silence as acceptance. "This is my fault and nothing you say or do will change that," Sam stated firmly. He had been frantic when Dean had collapsed knowing, deep inside him, that it was his fault. He had broken Dean's heart and hurt him deeply. He had been selfish and uncaring of Dean's feelings resulting in his brother making himself sick. The guilt he felt simmered and burned as Sam tormented himself with his hate for his actions. He desperately wanted to put things right between them but he needed Dean's help. 

Dean stopped his absent study of the ceiling and rolled his head on the pillows to look at Sam again. He narrowed his eyes as he watched a hundred different emotions flash across his brother's face reflecting in his eyes - guilt, shame, fear, self-loathing, hurt and pain were all mixed together. But even more surprising was that Dean could see love shining through all the jumbled and negative emotions. He loved Sam but it hadn't really occurred to him that Sam still loved him, may be still wanted him, still wanted to make a life together. "I'm a big boy," Dean said. "I guess I shoulda looked after my ass better." He gave his brother a small reassuring smile. 

Sam bit at his lip. "But I didn't help things." 

"May be," Dean admitted reluctantly. "But what's done is done. It's in the past." 

"But it affects the future," Sam said. "Our future." 

"I know," Dean replied. He was terrified and he couldn't stop himself trembling. He clenched and unclenched one hand in an effort to calm himself as they descended into silence for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts. "Can I ask you something personal?" Dean eventually broke the silence. It was one of the questions he really needed an answer to. He knew it might hurt him but he had to know. 

Sam frowned. "OK," he said quietly. He could see the slight tremors pulsing through Dean's body and sensed that his brother was afraid. Sam was afraid himself and had a suspicion what the question would be. Even though he was frightened it was important. To him and to his relationship with Dean. Sam resolved to be as truthful as possible and hope that the love they had felt for each other in the past, still obviously felt for each other, would see them through the next few minutes. 

Dean's mouth felt dry and he nearly changed his mind. But this was important. To him. To Sam. Dean drew in a long breath and gathered his courage. "Is... is Alex's father.... on....on the scene? Are you and him going to.... you know?" Dean shrugged his shoulders not able to bring himself to say the actual words. "Does he know about Alex?" he forced himself to ask. The man Sam had spent the night with, Alex's father, was a shadow lurking in the darkness. A shadow lurking in their past, their present and possibly their future. Dean had to ask, had to know. The question that he had been so frightened to ask was now out in the open and Dean could feel his terror rising threatening to take his breathe away. But it was too late. Dean held his breath even more and stared at Sam silently waiting for his answer. 

Sam couldn't help the snort that escaped. "No. No and no," he replied honestly. He looked across at Dean, an earnest expression on his face. "Bobby said I should tell him. That he deserved to know but I don't want him in my life... in Alex's life. He means nothing to me. Never did," he admitted softly. "It was just.... just sex. Angry stupid sex. No love. No feelings. Just sex." Sam knew that his answer would probably hurt Dean but his brother had a right to know the truth. This was his chance to start putting things right. Sam knew that his next few words would be hard for both him and Dean. "I .... I really wish he coulda been yours. He shoulda been yours. Ours." Sam looked directly at Dean, tears welling in his eyes. "I wish with all my heart that Alex was your son Dean. And Alex deserves to have you as his father. But I don't think there's any chance that he could be our son. We were too careful," Sam forced out. "I'm sorry. So sorry." 

Dean had been right. He swallowed hard fighting off the urge to cry. He could feel the tears burning but couldn't bring himself to turn away from Sam. To turn away would have been a slap in the face for Sam, a rejection, and Dean couldn't bring himself to do that. Sam's answer did hurt him and he felt the familiar stab of betrayal again, but Sam had found the courage to be honest with him and it had been hard. He could plainly see the hurt, shame and self-loathing in Sam's face. Dean owed Sam for his honesty. "Thank you Sam," he whispered. "For telling me the truth." 

"I promise he means nothing to me," Sam said, his tone desperate. "I lost the only person that meant anything to me. You. I had you. You loved me. And I lost you. I threw us away." 

"I believe you Sam," Dean said gently. "I know he means nothing to you. OK?" 

"OK," Sam nodded. He stared down at his jeans distractedly picking at the seam. 

"But may be Bobby is right," Dean said softly. "He deserves to know. I know you don't want him in your life. But you should just tell him and go from there. And even if you decide not to tell him .... well Alex deserves to know who his father is, when he's old enough to understand stuff."

"May be," Sam gnawed at his bottom lip. Dean and Bobby were right but he couldn't face Grady Mallory just now. He decided to think about it later. "I'll think about it," he conceded.

Dean gave a small nod. "How's Alex?" he forced himself to ask. He needed to change the subject for a moment to enable him to get his tattered emotions under control. He needed Sam to focus on something else other than his guilt and shame. Talking about Sam's son was just as painful but Dean knew if he wanted to have some sort of relationship with Sam, whether it be brother or lover, it would have to include Alex. 

"He's doing much better," Sam gave Dean a genuine smile. "The doctor says if he continues to improve like he is now, they're may be gonna transfer him to a normal ward next week. Then may be he can come home." 

"You ought to be with him," Dean suggested. "I'll be fine here." 

"No," Sam said stubbornly. "Alex is being looked after. Bobby is with him so he isn't alone. I can visit with him later when you're asleep. Then Bobby will be sitting with you. So you're not alone." 

"A two-man team huh?" Dean said and Sam nodded. "But really you should be with your son. I'm fine really," Dean tried to persuade. 

"No. I wanna stay here with you," Sam bit at his lip nervously suddenly unsure. "That's ... if you want .... want me to stay." Sam straightened up in the chair jutting his chin out mulishly. "But then I don't care what you want. Well... well I do. But I'm staying with you. So deal with it," he fixed Dean with a firm glare. 

Dean raised his eyebrows not able to contain the look of surprise that crossed his face. Sam smiled at him. "OK," Dean said simply. "It's your bony ass sitting in the chair from hell," he nodded at the standard hospital chair that Sam was sitting on. 

Sam chuckled lightly before turning serious eyes on Dean. "I know you don't wanna talk about it but.....," he gnawed at his bottom lip again. "But we've started... so we might as well finish it. It's not gonna go away. This thing.... with us," Sam waved a hand absently at them both. 

Dean sighed settling his head deeper into the pillows. "I guess not," he conceded. 

"I can never make it better," Sam said earnestly. "I can never take back what I did. And Alex will always remind.... remind you of what a stupid asshole I am," he said miserably. "I don't know what to do. I just want it all to go away... I know that makes me a selfish bastard.... but it hurts so much," Sam babbled. "I wanna get our lives back. I wanna make you happy. Like you always made me happy." Tears sprung to Sam's eyes and he swiped at them angrily. "I want us to be happy together. I know... know it will be kinda hard ... what with Alex and stuff but... I don't want anyone else. I promise." Sam stared at Dean willing his brother to understand, willing his brother to know how he felt.

Dean turned away from his brother for a moment. He closed his eyes briefly trying to gather his emotions together. "Sammy," he started to stay.

"I love you," Sam interrupted Dean mid-sentence. He couldn't bear the thought that his brother didn't love him any more, didn't want him any more. "I want you...so much. I have always wanted you. And I will always want you. And love you whatever you think of me," Sam looked down at his hands. "I know I don't deserve your love. Don't deserve a second chance.... but..." he whispered suddenly running out of words.

"Sammy," Dean said. 

"Do you want me?" Sam interrupted again before Dean could say anything else. He stared over at Dean nervously, his future happiness, their future happiness was in Dean's hands. 

Dean rolled his eyes at his brother. "Do you ever let anyone get a word in?" he asked. "No don't answer that," he put his hand up stopping Sam as his brother went to open his mouth. Dean regarded his brother for a moment. Sam was sitting slumped in the chair staring distractedly at his hands. One hand was absently picking at the seams of his jeans again. One of Sam's knees bounced up and down, a sure sign of his brother's nervousness. Dean knew that Sam was waiting, waiting for his answer. Just like he had been earlier. And Sam deserved his honesty. 

It had always been the two of them against the world even when their father had been alive, and it would be again. Dean knew that he could never look at Sam in quite the same way as he had before his night of passion. But Dean loved Sam and he hoped that it would be enough for their relationship to survive. He had always thought that love was the greatest test that anyone could ever go through, but now Dean was convinced that just may be forgiveness was an even greater challenge. He prayed that he was up to the challenge. Dean took a deep breath and swallowed hard. "Sammy," he said eventually. "I need you to look at me." 

"OK," Sam murmured and lifted his head directing frightened eyes at Dean. 

"I need to find me again," Dean said. 

"I don't understand," Sam frowned. 

"I lost me somewhere along the way," Dean struggled to explain. "But I know I'm in here," he tapped his chest with a finger. "Somewhere. I just need time to find me. You know him. Big. Bad. Sexy. Hard-assed Dean Winchester." 

Sam chuckled despite the seriousness of the situation. "He's still there. I know it," he said firmly. 

"Yeah he is," Dean nodded and he really believed it. "Just gotta hunt him down." 

"Does this mean you're going away again?" Sam stammered suddenly afraid again but if Dean needed to leave again to find himself, Sam would let him go. It would be hard but he was determined to help Dean in any way. 

"No," Dean shrugged lightly. "No more running." Sam frowned at his brother confusion showing on his face. Dean grabbed for Sam's hand squeezing it in reassurance. "I love you Sammy," Dean said softly. " I'll always love you. I always have. But I need to learn to trust you again." 

"OK," Sam said cautiously, not able to suppress the small glimmer of hope that was bubbling in his chest. He knew, deep inside, that he had a long way to go, that he had to earn Dean's trust again but he was doggedly determined. If it took him the rest of his life, Sam would gain Dean's trust again. "Does this.... this mean you're coming home?" 

"No Sammy," Dean answered gently and honestly. 

Sam couldn't help himself - his face fell, disappointment carved across his expression. He hung his head staring down at his jeans again. "Oh," he murmured. 

Dean shifted slightly in the bed, leaned across and tilted Sam's head upwards again. "Sam. Listen to me. It hurts when I'm not with you but right now it kills me to be with you. Does that make sense?" 

"I guess," Sam nodded reluctantly. It did make sense but it still hurt him. He loved Dean, wanted to be with him but he also knew if their relationship was going to have any hope of being repaired, they needed to take things slow, learn about each other all over again. "Where will you be?" he asked quietly. 

"Not far I promise," Dean said. "I'm gonna stay with Bobby. Just for a little while. OK?" 

Sam nodded. "I guess," he gave a small smile but it didn't quite reach his eyes. 

Dean knew that this was hard for his brother, knew that Sam could be just as impatient and hard-headed as he could be on a good day. But Dean could also see that Sam was determined not to let him go and could definitely see that Sam was determined that their relationship would survive. But realistically Dean also knew that they both needed time to heal. To get used to a new relationship, one that included Sam's son. "Sam. I know you want me to come home now," Dean said. "But I just can't.... and I just...not right now. I just want to take it slow. See how stuff goes. OK?" 

"I'd be lying if I said I didn't want you to come home now... be with me," Sam replied truthfully. "But I also understand that you wanna take it slow." He cocked his head to one side. "Perhaps be brothers again? You know.... be brothers again first?" Sam asked hopefully.

Dean smiled. "I'd like that," he said. "Thank you Sam. For understanding."

"I'll wait," Sam declared. "For as long as it takes. I'll be here... when you're ready." 

"You will?" Dean couldn't contain his surprise, not really expecting the reaction from Sam. "Even if it takes months?" He knew he was being unfair asking the question but he had to know. Had to be sure. 

"Damn straight," Sam mimicked one of Dean's favourite sayings. 

"OK," Dean answered with a sharp nod of his head. "But you have to do something for me Sammy." 

"I'll do anything," Sam said not able to contain his eagerness. "Just ask." He grabbed Dean's hand and squeezed tightly, not letting go. 

"I know Sammy," Dean gave a small laugh before getting serious again. "If this is going to work," he waved his free hand at them both. "Between us. And this is important. OK?" Sam gave a small nod. "You gotta forgive yourself." 

Sam bit at his lip. He didn't know if he could ever forgive himself for his actions, for hurting Dean but he had a feeling that it was important to his brother. "I'll try," he acknowledged. "I really will." 

"I know you will," Dean squeezed his hand.  "That's all I ask.... that you try." 

Sam felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Dean was going to give him a second chance and he would do his utmost to prove that his brother's faith in him wasn't misplaced. He would make their second chance work or his name wasn't Sam Winchester. "Will you visit us?" he asked. 

"Damn straight," Dean mirrored his brother's earlier answer with a small smile. His heart and soul felt lighter than it had for months. Dean could almost feel the veil of pain and hurt lift slightly releasing him from his inner anger. He really didn't know what the future would bring or hold but he knew that just may be they stood a chance of making their relationship work out. Dean didn't kid himself that it would be easy but may be together, they would succeed.

"Even when Alex comes home?" Sam asked uncertainly. He knew that his son was another hurdle that Dean would have to overcome, probably one of the biggest.

Dean swallowed hard again knowing that his answer was important to Sam. "Yeah," he said finally. "Even then. The little guy will need a cool uncle seeing how he has a bookworm geek for his dad." Sam rolled his eyes but smiled at Dean. "I could.... you know... may be finish up the garden. Bobby said it still needs some work," Dean offered.   He wasn't just offering to work on the garden.  Dean was offering Sam, and himself, some hope that he would eventually return to their home.   It was his way of saying that he was coming home one day soon.    

Sam smiled warmly accepting the offer for what it was. It meant that Dean would eventually come home to him. . "Yeah. That would be great," he said.  He bit at his lip. "May be.... you know... may be you could come and visit with Alex some time," Sam said hopefully. He held his breath waiting for Dean's answer. 

This was it. If they were going to have any hope surviving and moving forwards Dean Winchester had to take a leap of faith. It would probably be the first step of many that he would take towards trusting Sam again. The first real step. The most important step. And somehow, after everything that had happened, after all the misery and pain, Dean knew he was up to the challenge. He gathered up all the courage and inner strength he could muster. "Get the doctor to unhook my ass from all this stuff, "Dean nodded towards the machinery and drip. "And we'll go right now," he offered. 

"Really?" Sam asked not able to disguise his surprise. He hadn't expected that Dean would want to visit so soon. When he had asked, Sam had been thinking of one day when Alex had been discharged from the hospital. At that moment he loved Dean a little bit more, admired his bravery, his courage and his strength. Sam doubted very much that he would have been able to do the same if he had been in Dean's position. It spurred him on and he vowed that he would try hard to forgive himself but more importantly Sam resolved to spend the rest of his life making Dean happy. 

Dean knew, from the look on Sam's face, that he had taken his brother by surprise. He had wanted to take things slowly and they would, but he needed to see Alex sooner rather than later or run the risk that he would always find some excuse to put the visit off. "Yeah really," Dean nodded before he could change his mind. Dean felt a new determination rise up within him. He could do this. It was now or never. Time to put the past firmly in the past. Time to get his head out of his ass and get on with his life. 

**Forty-five minutes later......**

Dean nervously fiddled with the bandage across the back of his hand securing the needle. He was still attached to the intravenous drip and was sitting in a wheelchair, despite his loud protests. He scowled nastily at the drip which was attached to a pole fixed to the chair. He even had a blanket draped across his legs and he gave it a nasty look for good measure. His doctor had insisted on the wheelchair and the continued drip and in the end Dean had reluctantly agreed. Sam had then pushed him along the hospital corridors towards the baby unit. 

They were both nervous. Both afraid. But both were equally determined. Dean glanced up at Sam who was quietly talking to the nurse, who was assisting him with Alex. The baby had improved dramatically and his paediatrician had approved the visit immediately. Bobby had opted to leave them alone for a while and Dean guessed that their friend knew how important it was to both of them, knew that they had to do this alone. Bobby had promised to return in half an hour or so. If he thought his legs would hold him up for more than a few minutes, Dean was considering running away but had to admit that he still felt very wobbly, although hell would freeze over before he admitted it to his doctor or Sam.

"Hey," Sam startled him out of his reverie. "You ready?"

Dean looked up at Sam. He could see the fear and nervousness in Sam's eyes. Could see how important this was to Sam. To both of them. He moved his eyes down to Sam's arms. He was carefully cradling his sleeping son. Wires and tubes trailed from the small baby back to the machines surrounding his incubator and from what he could see from his sitting position, Dean thought the child looked so fragile and delicate. "You can do this," he chanted in his head over and over. "Yeah," Dean finally nodded at Sam. 

"OK," Sam said softly. He leant forwards gently laying his son across Dean's blanket covered legs. Dean couldn't help himself and he tensed slightly as the baby's weight settled across his thighs. Sam sat down in the chair opposite Dean and grabbed for one hand in an effort to support his brother maintaining the contact that he knew Dean probably needed. That he needed too. 

Dean steeled himself and looked down at the tiny baby. He was tiny and delicate and Dean decided that, even this small, he had the Winchester look about him. He looked up at Sam quickly, judging that the child definitely favoured his brother in looks. "He looks like you," Dean voiced. 

Sam had been holding his breath the whole time and exhaled relieved that so far Dean seemed to be coping with the situation ."Yeah he does," he replied knowing, deep down, what Dean was really saying. Sam knew his brother was really saying that he didn't look like Grady Mallory, a fact that he, himself, was relieved about. "Kinda handsome don't you think?" Sam smirked at his brother. 

"Not going that far," Dean teased back. Alex snuffled in his sleep kicking his legs slightly. Sam held his breath again as he watched Dean reach out a hesitant finger towards his son. Dean bit at his lip nervously. His heart was filled with trepidation and he closed his eyes for a moment trying to get control of his ragged emotions. The small child across his legs was Sam's son. Sam's son by another man. Sam had cheated on him and the small baby, full of warmth and life, laying across his legs was the result. Dean knew that this was his second test. His second step. Dean took some calming breaths and could feel his panic and nervousness receding and he felt vaguely encouraged. Dean could feel Sam close to him, feel his hand in his, gently squeezing, anchoring him and giving him strength. Dean finally opened his eyes, took a deep breath and gently ran his finger up the tiny baby's face. He looked up at his brother. Sam smiled at Dean, tears welling in his eyes. 

"You're such a girl Samantha," Dean teased trying to lighten the moment. He knew he had a long way to go. Knew that it would take a while for him to look at Sam's son and not see his brother's betrayal. The child was innocent and Dean resolved that he would try and be the best uncle ever. For Alex. For Sam. And for himself. 

"I don't care," Sam frowned. 

Dean rolled his eyes as he released his hand from Sam's. He cautiously reached down and put both hands under Alex, careful of the wires and tubes, and lifted the baby into arms cradling him. "He'll soon be playing baseball," Dean grinned at Sam. "Or working on the Impala." He grinned again as the child wriggled in his arms. Alex's breathing was slightly harsh but it didn't seem to be bothering him as he slept peacefully. 

Sam pulled a face but he couldn't contain his happiness at Dean's words. It would take time, he knew, but just may be his brother would accept his son as part of their family. Hope blossomed in his chest making him feel warm all over. Sam shifted his chair closer, laying one hand on his brother's thigh, desperate to keep his connection to Dean. Sam knew that they still had a long way to go but today Dean had taken big step towards healing. Sam had dreamed about this moment for months but honestly thought he would never see it. "Thank you," Sam whispered as he gazed down at his son in his brother's strong arms. 

Dean looked across at Sam and smiled before looking back down at a now wide awake Alex. Sam scooted even closer to his family not able to resist touching his son's tiny face. He offered Alex his finger and the baby clutched at it. Sam decided to take a chance. He leaned forward and gave Dean a soft loving kiss. 

  
  
**The End..... or may be the Beginning!**

  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



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